


Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht

by Hermaline75



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Sculpture, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:02:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 32,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27329971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermaline75/pseuds/Hermaline75
Summary: Thor takes on the repairs of a town church that turns out to be in desperate need of restoration.And meets a very interesting choir master.
Relationships: Loki/Thor
Comments: 561
Kudos: 348





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Happy December!
> 
> I know I say this every year, but this year more than any other, somehow we've made it. As such, please excuse my being a little indulgent with some of my favourite tropes - historical setting, art, music and (hopefully) full-on snowy scenes.
> 
> Wishing you all the very best and let's hope 2021 calms down some.

It was probably a nice enough town. Difficult to tell in the dark.

What a day. What a long, long, cold day. Not even properly cold, not yet, but you could feel the threat of it. There had been a long diversion around a damaged bridge, the stagecoach growing emptier and emptier until Thor alone sat hunched in the carriage, chilly and tired but wary of falling asleep in case he missed his stop.

The driver banged on the wall loud enough to wake the dead, spurring him into motion, stepping out onto the crunch of gravel and clambering up to collect his bags, the familiar clinking sound of tools brushing together almost comforting.

"Thank you," he said.

"Be seeing you."

The lantern hanging from the front swayed off into the night, leaving Thor gazing up at the church in the moonlight. Impressive, especially for a relatively small town. Not a cathedral or anything like that, just one storey plus roof space but certainly big for the area. He couldn't make out much of what they wanted fixed though.

"Hello!" a voice boomed from the darkness. "You'll be the mason then?"

Thor turned to find a man approaching, a large red beard and smiling eyes behind a lamp.

"Thank you for coming at such a time of year. It must be so inconvenient to be away from family."

Thor shook the proffered hand and let himself be led round the side of the building, briefly spotting some unnerving cracks in the main stairs to the entrance.

"I'm unmarried," he said vaguely.

"Fair enough. I'm Volstagg. I'm more or less the town handyman. Need something fixing, I'm the one to call on. The church is a little beyond my capabilities, however, but you'll find out all about it in the morning."

He bustled Thor in through a side door, out of quite so much chill, beckoning him along the aisle to what Thor took to be the vestry, a little camp bed set up and a kettle hanging over the fire.

"Do let me know if this doesn't suit you," Volstagg said, pouring hot water into a teapot as Thor tried to get some warmth back into his hands. "Not much room at the inn, I'm afraid."

"It will do very well. I like being near my work for one thing. Thank you."

They sipped black tea companionably, a moment of peace. There was a meal prepared for him, cold but hearty enough, and Volstagg seemed a gregarious sort, happy to chat without needing much vocal response.

"It's been falling into disrepair for a while now," he said. "The carvings have seen better days, but it's the steps that really need attention. They're not safe, especially for the older folk. We had floods a few years back, you see, and then a freeze and they've been getting worse and worse ever since. Lot of damage."

"Is the building still sound?"

"For the most part. There are a few leaks here and there. I patch them as best I can but, well... Truth is I just don't have the skills. I think the father wants it all done by Christmas, but even just the steps and a few of the roof repairs would make such a difference. The decorative work would really be more of an additional blessing."

Thor nodded and tried not to get overly excited. He made his living with steps and flagstones, but sculpture was his true calling. There was something magical about leaving his work in place for generations. He loved it.

"Anyway," Volstagg said, taking his empty plate. "I should be heading back to my lady wife and letting you sleep. The father will be in at first light to take you through everything. Goodnight."

"And to you."

The mattress was not the thickest he had ever slept on, but it wasn't bad at all and there were plenty of blankets. He stripped down to a night shirt and thick socks - made by his mother and now darned so much there was barely anything of the original fabric left - glad to be able to stretch out after his long journey.

He'd always been a heavy sleeper, but even he was roused in the morning by the sound of organ music, confused in the dark and pulling on his coat to go and investigate.

There was a pool of light in the main church, a lantern hanging from a hook on top of a foot-pedalled instrument to illuminate its music stand, shadows flickering off around the rafters, a stern-looking young man concentrating fully on the manuscript in front of him. For such an early hour, he was impeccably dressed, a black coat and a cravat, hair slicked back. He had an almost funereal air to him, a certain sternness and poise. The harsh light picked out his brow and cheeks, the faint pursing of his lips.

Quite attractive, really, in a cold way.

Maybe this was some kind of strange dream.

He was playing something very dense and complicated, his feet operating the pedal bellows with steady, rhythmic presses as his hands flew over the keys. Like a swan almost, calm in some places, working so hard in others.

Until he caught Thor in his peripheral vision and almost jumped out of his skin, letting out something of a shriek.

"I'm sorry," Thor said. "Please, don't let me disturb you. I'm, er... I'm Thor Odinson. I'm the stone mason here to repair... everything."

Staring eyes, a hand on his chest as he recovered from the shock. A very nice hand, Thor noted. Long fingers, delicate and willowy.

"I didn't know you were here," he said. "Thought you were a ghost. Loki Laufeyson. Teacher and choir master. I'm dreadfully sorry for waking you. I'll... I'll go."

"No, please," Thor said. "Carry on. I don't mind. I don't often get to hear music played so skilfully."

There was maybe a hint of pink around Laufeyson's cheeks as he took a deep breath, nodded once and turned back to the organ, turning back a few pages and placing his fingers on the keys once more. It made him look very handsome, a faint softening of his demeanor. Intriguing.

Thor tried not to think about that as he shuffled back into the vestry to get dressed.

He probably shouldn't have introduced himself to a stranger with his bare legs visible for one thing...


	2. To Do List

There was a water butt out the back, enough collected to start boiling some for tea and wash his face, and he managed to find the outhouse too before dawn. Mr Laufeyson headed off soon afterwards. Thor felt the loss of the music rather. He'd liked it very much.

What a treat if that was to be his cock crow every morning.

The priest arrived, as predicted, a thin man with something of a pinched face, though that might have just been the cold, his small frame almost drowned by his enormous red scarf as he showed Thor around the necessary repairs.

"It's the steps really," he said. "That's the vital thing. It's neither right nor convenient having to make everyone enter through the side door. And some of the gargoyles are blocked, I fear. Maybe all of them. Certainly not draining properly. We only have four; one for each Evangelist. They ought to be mainly decorative but they've caused blockages and leaks. If you could see to them, I'd be very grateful. And I believe our organist is very keen for some roof damage above his instrument to receive some attention, but it's not as urgent as he thinks it is."

"I met him this morning," Thor said. "I fear I gave him quite a shock."

"Mm. Organist and schoolmaster. He likes to practise before the children are in class. I can tell him not to bother you."

"Oh, no, I liked it. He's very talented."

A nod, more like a shuffle beneath his layers.

"Lunch and dinner will be provided to you, of course. Anything else you need, Volstagg is in the first house on the right of the main street. He'll help you out. However, pastoral duty calls for me at the moment, I'm afraid. Good morning."

Thor nodded and made his way round to assess things properly.

They had bought stone for him to work with, large, beautiful slabs, but first he needed to assess the damage to the current steps and make decisions on what could be saved and what had to go.

Well, the mortar was not of a particularly good mix, he could tell that almost just from looking at it. The ratio didn't seem right. Too wet when it went down, he thought. Years of freezing had made it expand and contract and now no wonder it was breaking up and damaging the stones.

Fortunately, the walls seemed made of better stuff, but he set about scraping out the gaps, loosening the broken steps, starting at the top and working his way down removing piece after piece. Some of them were fully intact and perfectly suitable to be reused with the right treatment.

He'd almost made it halfway down when some light footsteps approached, glancing round to find a young girl carrying a tray. He wasn't much good at guessing ages, but perhaps twelve. He wasn't sure.

"Hello," Thor said, giving her a nod.

"It's soup," she said with the sullen voice of one who'd rather not be doing this job. "Barley broth. And Papa said I'm to ask if you need anything else."

"Thank you. I'll need some straw, but it's not urgent. Just in the next few days really."

She nodded, seeming wary of him. Well, no wonder. He was a stranger and a rough one at that.

"How much straw?"

"A bale would do it, I think. Enough to cover the steps. It's just to keep the frost off, if we get a frost."

In truth, he shouldn't be considering laying mortar in these temperatures. The curing time would be long, the risks of cracking or other issues were high. But if he was lucky and kept it covered and no one stood on it for a week minimum, it should be alright for the next few years at least, if not decades. Better than no repairs at all.

The lack of light wasn't helping much either, but he didn't really need to see properly to scrap off old, bad mortar. Prep his stone today, mix up his personal blend of binder tomorrow and have these steps more or less done in a few days, then set about getting up on the roof and checking these leaks...

He couldn't hear much over the sound of his trowel and chisel, but he gradually became aware of a presence. Someone observing him.

He glanced over his shoulder, finding Mr Laufeyson standing there, a sheaf of paper under his arm.

"Are you not cold?" he asked doubtfully.

"It's not so bad," Thor said, dusting himself off a little. He was acutely aware that he was scruffy and unkempt and he wasn't quite sure why it mattered, but he wanted to make a good impression. "My work keeps me warm."

"Hm."

He went inside and soon enough Thor was treated to the faint sound of music, humming along a little as he drove scratches into the stone's surface, cutting some new pieces where needed, methodically laying the groundwork for the next few days.

It got dark around him, so much so that he felt it necessary to stop and head indoors, trying to pause in the doorway to look without being noticed.

It was clearly a difficult tune as Laufeyson kept stopping and starting again, clearly irritated, marking his paper from time to time with a long pencil tucked behind his ear.

His hair had slipped a little since the morning and an errant curl kept falling forward only to be pushed back again. Thor found himself wanting to help somehow, to smooth it back for him.

Or at least to find out of it was as soft as it looked.

A sigh and Laufeyson turned to select a different manuscript, Thor hurriedly walking in like he just happened to be striding in at the same time.

"The priest told me you have a problem," he said, getting a sharp look.

"What kind of problem?"

He seemed very suspicious and Thor was somewhat taken aback.

"Some kind of leak?"

"Oh! Oh, that... There is a little water ingress, directly over the stool. You can see the stain if you look closely."

Thor squinted up, maybe noticing some brownish marks. It was a very fine instrument by his reckoning, rather grand for a town church. Smaller than a pipe organ but carved in some kind of red wood, stained to look like mahogany perhaps, all filigree and decoration. Someone kept it beautifully polished, seeming to almost glow in the lamplight.

It would be a travesty to let it be damaged...

"I asked Volstagg to fix it and he did his best, but I fear it was rather a patch job than a proper repair. When the rain is particularly heavy, it still gets in and I'm obliged to share my seat with a bucket. It's not particularly dignified."

"I'll take a look at it," Thor said. "Are there stairs?"

"Not as such. I can... show you, if you like."

"Thank you. I'd be very grateful."

At this stage, he'd also do almost anything that might make Mr Laufeyson smile at him.


	3. The Choir

The route up to the roof space was via rather a rickety ladder, but the flooring was strong enough. And besides, Thor had been treated to the sight of Mr Laufeyson's behind as he climbed up first at a very flattering angle.

He was a very finely built fellow and his clothes were finely tailored, leaving just enough to the imagination. Thor only hoped his attention was going unnoticed.

"You can see it's holding up, but only barely."

The plaster work wasn't too bad at all, but it was clearly already water-damaged. There must be a bigger problem on the roof of the building than was apparent here.

"Is there access to outside?"

The trapdoor wasn't the best he'd ever seen, but he was able to pop his head out and and get a look at what he was working with. As he suspected, there were a few patches missing their slates and they'd gathered in the gutters. Mostly looked intact though. Fairly easy to re-attach.

"I can fix that for you," Thor said, climbing down. "And I'll repair the plasterwork too."

Laufeyson beamed at him. What a smile... His eyes crinkled slightly, a shine of teeth, over in a flash like he'd remembered himself suddenly.

"Thank you. I do worry about my instrument getting damaged."

Downstairs, a door closed heavily, a voice calling out.

"Mr Laufeyson?"

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

Thor followed him down into the church, finding the priest unwrapping himself from his scarf, a group of people behind him. Thor recognised Volstagg and his daughter among their number, laying their coats onto the pews.

"I was just showing Mr Odinson the roof. He says he can fix it. No more leaks."

"Mm. Well, here's your choir, ready to sing the Lord's praises for Christmas."

There was a faint tension here if Thor wasn't mistaken, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It was like there was some kind of disagreement between the two of them. He put it out of his mind; none of his business really.

"I see you've dismantled our steps," the priest said to him as the singers began warming up, a little good-natured joking.

"I'll set about rebuilding them tomorrow," Thor said. "But it will be at least a week if not more before they're able to be used. The mortar will need a lot of time to set in this weather."

A nod followed by a conspiratorial lean, dropping his voice even lower.

"Don't let Mr Laufeyson order you around, by the way," he said. "He oversteps himself sometimes."

"Oh, I don't mind," Thor said. "I asked him to show me what needed repaired. I'll take a closer look at the roof and see if I'll need to order anything in particular."

The singers weren't bad by any stretch of the imagination, but as Thor climbed out to gather the loose slates and examine the damage by lantern light, he could tell that they needed some practice, even just to make them more confident.

Still, it was very pleasant to hear it, to be accompanied by music as he measured out his sand and lime for the morning, ready to take best advantage of the sunlight tomorrow. He'd mix in the dark of the early hours, get the stones down and covered in the best of the warmth, with any luck managing to have that completed at least before any frost set in later in the month.

He should easily have everything done long before Christmas.

Of course, he didn't know what exactly he was going to be doing then. Probably try to find a room somewhere, get through into spring. This town and its choir and choir master would be a pleasant memory and - hopefully - a jingle of coins in his pocket.

There was a knock on the wall behind him, a small red-haired figure standing there, plaits emerging from under an enormous hat.

"Papa says you're to come for dinner," she said.

"Oh," Thor said. "I don't want to impose."

She pouted a little, shuffling her feet.

"If you don't then I'll have to come out again to bring you food _and_ carry the straw back here."

Hm. Well, he probably shouldn't let a young girl walk around at night by herself even in such a quiet town.

"Mr Laufeyson's coming too," she said.

Hmm...

"Very well," he said. "Lead on. Just let me wash my hands first."

Despite himself, he felt a little nervous as he pulled on his coat. Dinner with Mr Laufeyson...

And an entire family too, but no matter. He would get to observe his new acquaintance a little closer. Have a conversation perhaps.

Nothing would come of it, of course, but he could dream.


	4. Dinner

Thor couldn't tell how many children there were. They kept moving around before he had a proper chance to count them. But they seemed a cheerful bunch. Happy chattering rather than the unhappy squealing that sometimes accompanied the young.

The house was very crowded but scrupulously clean and full of good smells, a hearty stew being stirred, fresh bread.

"How was it?" the mother asked over her shoulder.

"You'll have to ask Mr Laufeyson, I think," Volstagg said.

"A fairly typical first rehearsal," Laufeyson said, taking off his coat. "Needs some work. There's almost something missing in the harmony at the moment, but I'm sure we'll get there."

"I thought it sounded excellent," Thor said, stepping forward to shake hands. "Thor Odinson, stone mason."

"Hilde. Pleased to meet you."

Thor found himself rather squashed onto a bench running the length of a table that was beautifully smooth after a lifetime of scrubbing, trying not to pay attention to the fact that his thigh was pressed very tightly against Mr Laufeyson's.

It was very, very distracting... He could feel the warmth of his flesh, a muscle moving as he shuffled slightly but not enough to actually move away.

Right. Eating. Not letting his cheeks pinken at all.

"So what made you become a mason, Mr Odinson?" Hilde asked, sitting down at the head of the table.

"Well, my parents were very keen for me to have a trade. Apprenticed as a boy, learned the skills and then set out to wherever the work is. Sculpture is my real passion, but I appreciate practical tasks too. But really it's a very boring story. Like all parents, they wanted to be sure I was well provided for."

"Most parents, certainly," Laufeyson said.

Thor looked at him, a little surprised, and then looked away.

"I'm a teacher, Mr Odinson. Most parents want what's best for their offspring, others manage to do an excellent impression of not caring. This household, of course, are true paragons, but unfortunately not every child is so lucky."

There was a faint awkwardness hanging in the air. Something everyone in the room knew about except him and the children. And Thor's immediate instinct was to try to dispell that somehow, to move on as quickly as possible.

"Do you enjoy teaching?" he asked.

"It's a privilege to help mould young minds. Knowing someone will go through life with at least rudimentary reading, writing and arithmetic and perhaps a smattering of other subjects is very rewarding and important."

That wasn't fully a yes. But then again, it wouldn't exactly be polite to say no in front of some of his young charges if he didn't

"We hope that Young Hilde might become a teacher one day," Volstagg said. "Or a governess, even."

"She's certainly bright enough," Laufeyson said. "But she needs to apply herself."

The eldest girl, nodded, apparently very piously. Thor wondered how she had time for learning given she seemed to be fetching and carrying so much throughout the day.

The conversation ebbed and flowed around him, talk of the upcoming advent season that would begin that very Sunday, all the excitement and anticipation for Christmas. Warnings of the importance of being good so as to receive a treat and not coal.

Thor had always found that odd. A lump of coal could turn a cold night from miserable to bearable, in his experience. But then again, when you're five, perhaps this wasn't a compelling argument.

Dinner didn't last long and, if he was quite honest, Thor was quite keen to take his leave and let especially the yawning younger children get to bed in peace, stretching his legs as he and Laufeyson thanked their hosts and stepped out into the chill night air, a bale of straw under his arm beneath the twinkling stars.

"Could I offer you a nightcap, Mr Odinson?"

Thor hesitated. He probably shouldn't, given his undeniable attraction to this schoolmaster. But then again, maybe it would be good for him. See the fascinating person up close and remind himself that he was, indeed, human. Maybe his lust would cool. Or grow all the more heated.

"I'd be delighted, thank you."

They fell into step, their breath misting slightly. And Thor tried to think of something interesting to say.

"How long have you been a teacher?" he asked, almost cringing at how basic a question it was.

"Since I was barely more than a child myself. It was a fairly obvious path to take. I was sharp enough. Stepped right into the role when my tutor retired."

"So you've lived here all your life?"

"For my sins, yes."

"You don't seem very sinful to me," Thor said.

Laufeyson laughed, a warm sound that touched something in Thor's chest.

"Well, you hardly know me, Mr Odinson."

Thor hoped that the darkness was hiding the colour in his cheeks. He could imagine a few... less than saintly situations that he might like to see Laufeyson in.

There was a figure standing in the otherwise empty street. Thor was a little surprised. It wasn't very late, but then again this was a quiet town. What business was there at this time? Unless one of these houses was a pub...

"Mr Laufeyson," came the priest's voice. "Mr Odinson. Good evening."

"Good evening," Thor said, just as Laufeyson said, "What do you want?"

"I wanted to discuss your plans for the choir."

"Now?"

"Well, I would hate for you to rehearse any hymns unnecessarily."

Thor felt very, very out of place. There was a difference of opinion here about something that really was none of his business.

"Perhaps we should postpone this for another night," he said. "Good evening."

He headed back towards the church, a little disappointed, glancing back as he rounded the corner at the end of the street. Laufeyson and the priest had gone inside, a lamp burning in the window.

Another night. It was a delay, not a cancellation.

But he couldn't deny that he was a little disappointed all the same.


	5. Gargoyles

"Should you really be laying that in these temperatures?"

Thor eased his knees a little, aching against the cold stone. He'd been woken again by Laufeyson playing the organ and had spent a little while enjoying the music from the cosy warmth of his bed before getting up and mixing all his components into a thick paste, making a start in the faint dawn glimmers.

"I'm sorry?"

"I was reading up on mortar last night," Laufeyson said. "It doesn't work in cold temperatures."

Thor was unused to anyone actually paying attention to the technicalities of what he did. Normally people just trusted him to get on with it.

"As long as it doesn't freeze, it should be alright," he said. "But you're right. It will take a long time to set, longer than normal. I'll cover it in straw and a sheet, keep the frost off. The process gives off heat, so if I can trap some of that, it will help."

"Will it be safe?"

"I hope so, or I won't get paid and I'm already getting room and board so I'd be in debt. I'd have to stay and make it right."

"Oh. What a shame that would be."

There was laughter in his voice and Thor found himself chuckling too, though he wasn't exactly sure why. He liked Laufeyson in appearance very much, but he was surely imagining these little flashes of potential interest. Just wishful thinking, surely.

"Duty calls, I'm afraid," Laufeyson said. "Good luck with the steps."

"Thank you. Good luck with the children."

This was very peaceful work, laying his stones, smoothing the points between them, even managing to work up a little bit of a sweat with all the heavy lifting. Some hours later, Young Hilde brought him leftover stew, maybe tasting even better than it had the night before.

"You get to go home from school for lunch, then?" Thor asked her, soaking up the last few smears of gravy with the end piece of bread.

"Yes. While Mr Laufeyson marks the morning lessons."

"Is he a good teacher?"

"I don't know. I've never met a different one."

Fair enough.

"Do you like him?"

"Um... I suppose. He's strict sometimes. I just do my work and don't get in trouble. But he's quite a sad man. His mother and father died when he was young."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It happens," she said pragmatically. "But I think he's a bit lonely. Maybe because he's not married."

It was probably quite hard to meet anyone in a small town.

"Are you married, Mr Odinson?"

"Me? No, no. Nobody would put up with me for long enough."

That wasn't strictly true. He'd had some chances. A few women had given him hints or sometimes open confirmation that they liked him well enough to make a home together. He couldn't do it in good faith though. He was away too often, travelling around, not earning very much. Adding children into that equation would need some careful thought.

And then there were his occasional dalliances with men, of course... He liked to think he was the kind of person who wouldn't do such things if he had sworn to forsake all others, but he did enjoy them too and didn't particularly want to give them up.

"I could find a wife for you," Young Hilde said. "I know all the eligible women round about."

Thor made himself chuckle, very awkward. The last think he needed was an adolescent matchmaker...

"That's very kind of you, but I'm afraid I must decline."

She seemed a very bright girl, taking his bowl.

"Are you going to fix the gargoyles?" she asked.

"I'm certainly going to take a look at them."

"Oh, good. I loved them when I was little, how the water poured out of their mouths. I'd love to see them working again."

"I'll do my best to sort them out for you."

He'd only get a cursory glance really by the time he'd finished laying the steps, getting out onto the roof with a lantern and carefully making his way to the first carved creature. Some kind of lion-type animal. Very classic.

The four gargoyles were themed for the four Evangelists - a lion for Mark, an eagle for John, an ox for Luke and a man for Matthew. And the animals were fine - they were finely carved, not necessarily lifelike as such, but the man... He found it a little off and decided to leave it to last.

Oh, dear... He was glad he was wearing gloves. No wonder they hadn't been flowing properly. He managed to extract disgusting sodden bundles of twigs, mud and feathers, bird's nests by the looks of it, that had become jammed and blocked the mouths. And while there were other paths for rain to get off the roof, there was obvious water damage behind each one. The damp would probably make the whole roof come in, given enough time.

He was dropping the extracted gunk over the side to clean up later when he caught sight of Laufeyson coming down, a tall and elegant figure in the moonlight.

"Is it safe up there?" he called, peering up at Thor.

"Probably not. Don't worry - I'm careful."

He did get down soon enough though, managing to find a broom and shovel to clear up, bidding the choir good evening as they arrived.

"Is that from the gargoyles?" the priest asked behind him.

"Yes. Bird nests, I think. Some of God's creatures causing issues in his house. I can fit some metal to discourage them, but I'll have to source it. In the meantime, the steps are curing and should not be touched and I'll start fixing the roof tomorrow."

"Wonderful. And I hear that you are something of a sculptor as well, Mr Odinson."

"That's right, yes."

"Hm. We have a font, you see. It's rather plain. Since you have such little daylight to work in, I wondered if you could create a frieze or somesuch for it. It would keep you from getting bored when outside work is inconvenient."

"I'd be delighted."

He finished clearing up and awkwardly shuffled round the edge of the church, trying to keep his voice down as the choir sang scales to warm up.

It was a simple cuboid on top of a pedestal, a hollow for a dish in the top. He could work with this.

"Did you have anything particular in mind?" Thor asked.

"I'll let you design it. Something suitable for welcoming new life into our community."

Right. He could do that.

Simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (What denomination even is this church? Uh... Shhh...)


	6. A Surprise

It ought to have a religious theme, right? Or maybe not. The outside of the church had mainly geometric patterns, nature... The gargoyles were features rather than routine aspects of the exterior.

He took measurements of the font and dug out his sketchbook from the depths of his bags and started trying to draw out ideas with the stub of a pencil as he listened to the singing.

It was Adeste Fideles. He knew the tune but not the words. And it seemed a few of the singers were much the same.

"What in the world are those vowels?" Laufeyson was saying. "Come now, we do this every year. Triumphantes - tree-oom-fan-tez, not try-um-fon-tez. You can put in all the lovely light and shade you like, but if we're not all singing the same sounds then it won't sound right."

Thor wasn't totally following the technicalities. He didn't know much about music really. He liked it, very much, but he had no idea how to read it or to create sounds like that. He could hum, maybe, and sing hymns if he could pick up the tune, but the kind of harmonies he was hearing now were quite beyond him.

He could draw designs though. He was thinking of soaring birds, drawing wing shapes, waves of feathers.

Angels maybe.

_Regem angelorum..._

In the edges of his paper, he doodled some faces and figures, trying to imagine a Gabriel or a Michael. And maybe some of them had particular arches to the brows and high sharp cheekbones or the hint of swept back hair...

He didn't hear the footsteps until Laufeyson laid a hand on his shoulder. He must have crept down the aisle without Thor noticing.

"Just checking the sound from back here," he said softly. "What do you think?"

"It's beautiful," Thor said.

"Don't you think there's something missing?"

"I can't pretend to know very much about music or what makes it complete, I'm afraid."

He noticed Laufeyson's eyes flick to his sketches, a little frown passing briefly over his face, Thor suddenly feeling a vague worry in the pit of his stomach. Could he recognise his own face? Surely not. He wasn't good enough of an artist for that. And besides, what would it matter? It wasn't like he would realise that his sketches were born of such admiration.

Laufeyson blinked hard and headed back up the aisle to get his singers to stop and go over a specific part again. And Thor let out a long exhale. He'd got away with it.

Eventually the side door opened in a blast of cool air, Hilde senior coming in with a little gang of younger children, one of them carrying a covered plate very carefully. His dinner, presumably.

"Thank you," he said as it was brought over to him.

"Enjoying the singing?" Hilde asked.

"Very much. It's a real treat to hear such beautiful music."

"He works them hard, but the results are always wonderful."

She collected her husband and eldest as Thor stood up and headed for the vestry, his makeshift bedroom, looking forward to enjoying his meal and getting a good night's sleep. He'd tackle some of the roof in the morning, start fixing some leaks.

He ate alone, hearing as people left the church, leaving him in the peaceful air of a holy place, safe and warm by his fire, already feeling a little sleepy.

Fortunately, he hadn't started undressing when he heard footsteps outside the room, a faint little rap against the door.

Laufeyson. In his coat, his papers under his arm.

"I just wanted to let you know how much I'm looking forward to seeing what you do with the font," he said.

"Oh," Thor said. "Well, I hope you like it."

"Mm. Well. Goodnight."

He leant forward, the shortest of moments, brushing their lips together with the fleeting passing of a melted snowflake.

Thor stared as he turned on his heels like nothing had happened, leaving without another word.

Huh.


	7. Fantasy

Stumbling into his camp bed and shuffling out of his clothes, Thor staired at the ceiling in the dark.

Had that just happened? Had Laufeyson really just kissed him? A fleeting brush of a kiss, barely perceptible, almost enough to make him wonder if he had somehow imagined it.

The tingling in his lips made him convinced that he had not. That had definitely happened.

But what did it mean? What did he want? He was hardly the type who Thor usually had dalliances with - they were generally other masons or builders, fellow rough men. The idea that someone so poised and elegant and refined might find him desirable...

But then again, some people liked that kind of thing, didn't they? A bit of rough and tumble.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that possibility. Could he fulfil that fantasy? Absolutely, he could. And maybe he even would, if asked, even though his real urge was to see that haughty face in ecstasy, to make Laufeyson feel as wanted and beautiful as he was.

Lying in the dark, pulling his blankets up, Thor let his mind wander off into imagining what it would be like. This was a relatively small town, the kind of place where everyone knew everyone else's business. How much experience might Laufeyson have? Would he ever have been with a man before?

Well, maybe. Perhaps he took his chances where he could and had had many affairs. Maybe he was vastly more experienced than Thor was himself.

Either way, he longed to be alone with him. Not here in this cramped single bed, but perhaps in Laufeyson's house, among his sheets. He longed to be close, to see those lips part, those eyes darken with want, to feel the touch of those skilled fingers...

Feeling a little guilty, Thor wrapped his hand around his cock, unable in the moment to really work out which words he might say exactly to let Laufeyson know that he considered him extraordinary but trusting that they would be heartfelt and convincing and then then he would be led to the bedroom and be permitted to remove those layers of clothing.

The jacket would already be off, but he'd very carefully undo the buttons on his fine waistcoat, gentle with the delicate fabric, and then slowly untie the knot of his cravat. The swish of silk and the baring of his neck, and Thor would kiss him where his pulse fluttered.

He could imagine the gasp, the way he might grip so tightly, so excited, grinding forward to find friction as Thor eased his shirt out of its neat tuck, finding warm, smooth skin beneath.

Really, he shouldn't be allowing himself this kind of fantasy. Real life was not like this. It required more talking, for one thing, something which sometimes Thor found difficult, and perhaps they would be kept apart somehow and never have anything like the perfect moment he was dreaming of and then he'd be left with only wondering for the rest of his days...

And yet he was still idly palming his cock as he imagined kneeling before Laufeyson and easing down his trousers, letting his erection spring free.

What kind of length might he have? It didn't really matter, but Thor longed to know all the same. Might it curve a little, or flush a deep red? He'd take it in his mouth eagerly regardless, showing through his actions how strong his desire was, sinking his fingers into thighs and buttocks, maybe even daring to stroke along his cleft.

Would Laufeyson want to fill him or the other way round? He didn't much mind, but in his imagination, he lay between parted legs, kissing away any nerves, gently sliding inside - after copious preparation, of course - and rolling his hips to draw out the sweetest moans...

That had him stroking his cock properly. The sounds were easily his favourite part of sex; even just heavy breathing was enough, but any kind of pleasured moan, any good sound that he knew was his doing drove him wild. And Laufeyson would sound incredible, he just knew it. That smooth voice turned to gasps and cries and begging...

"More," he said in Thor's fantasy. "Oh, please, more, more..."

Thor would give him more. He'd give him everything.

He spilled with something of a gasp, trying to get his breath back as he lay in a slightly sticky, rather sleepy state afterwards.

Would they even get a chance for such things?

He prayed they would. But he knew that the first step would be getting some guaranteed time alone.

And that wasn't exactly going to be easy when anyone might walk into the church at any time.


	8. Sunday

The morning's music was an intense, multilayered thing. And Thor was nervous. Very, very nervous. The excitement of the previous evening had well and truly given way to fear.

What if he'd misinterpreted somehow? Or what if Laufeyson had changed his mind? Satisfied his curiosity as far as he needed? What if he'd tried a kiss and decided actually he didn't want anything further? What if he thought they didn't want the same thing when they really did?

Thor carefully trimmed his beard a little, washing his face in the little basin they'd given him, tying back his hair. He only had a small mirror, but he hoped he looked alright.

He crept out of the vestry, watching Laufeyson play, the concentration on his face. Best not to disturb. He crept around to the font, thinking to start drawing some of his design on it with a wax pencil.

Had Laufeyson noticed him? Maybe. It was difficult to say. He seemed absorbed in his playing, swept away in it. Thor longed for him to turn round, to say something, to acknowledge this tension between them.

The door opened behind him, looking back at the priest with a lurch of guilt.

"Good morning, Mr Odinson. What are you doing?"

"Nothing!" Thor said without thinking.

"Good. It's Sunday. No work today."

He made his way through the church, beginning his preparations for the service, this first week of Advent. Thor hadn't even realised what day it was. His mind was all aflutter.

"I do hope you're planning to play something a little more cheerful," he continued. "Make a joyful noise, as the Bible says."

"Of course," Laufeyson said, changing his music to a different score and starting to practise something more gentle.

Thor felt deeply uncomfortable. He didn't know what to do with himself. Just sit and wait for more people to arrive, he supposed, attend the service. He chose a pew somewhere near the back, nervous about accidentally stealing someone's usual spot.

He just wanted to speak to Laufeyson in private, but as more and more people arrived, that seemed more and more impossible. Could he catch him at the end, when people might not notice? He could pretend to have a question about the music perhaps. But then again, he wasn't convinced it was a good idea to risk being overheard at all.

"I hear you're looking for some scrap metal," Volstagg said, passing with his family all looking very smart in their Sunday best. "We could head to the blacksmith and collect some this afternoon if you wish."

Thor tried not to hesitate. It would be suspicious to hesitate. And maybe it would be suspicious to try to speak with Laufeyson unnecessarily too. He should pretend that he had no ulterior motives, no reason to seek out a conversation. But then again, he desperately wanted to say something, he wanted to break the tension. He was worried and so it stood to reason that Laufeyson, as the active party in their tiny kiss, might be even more worried, he might be scared that he'd made a mistake...

Oh, no, he was hesitating...

"Yes," he said. "Thank you, that would be very useful."

Maybe he could catch Laufeyson quickly at the end of the service and speak with him. Just a word. Just enough to let him know that it was alright, whatever might or might not happen between them, he was safe.

Despite his troubled mind, it was comforting to sit in on such a familiar part of the biblical year. He knew this story backwards and forwards, he felt. He'd heard it every year since he was a child. Despite being a small church, this was still grander than the local services that he remembered. And part of that was the organ, he thought.

Maybe he was just getting caught up in his admiration, but he loved the way the music seemed to fill the space. He loved watching Laufeyson pedaling the bellows with his feet, holding a chord with one hand and reaching to pull on a stop valve with the other. How skilled and coordinated he was.

He wanted to applaud after every hymn, but knew he shouldn't. He was barely mumbling along, too keen to hear the playing.

The choir performed one song, some of them clearly experienced singers who had done this for years and some new and nervous, their voices blending and rising and falling. For only two rehearsals, it was very nice indeed.

And amongst that, Thor listened to a very familiar story about censuses and journeys and unexpected pregnancy. He wasn't a particularly devout man, and maybe he even felt a little ashamed to have his mind on such earthly matters in a holy place, but he felt spiritually nourished by it all the same. This was a nice town with kind people and he was glad to be doing their repairs.

Before he knew it, the priest was giving the final blessing, Laufeyson playing something peaceful and soothing, and he had to go and collect his jacket. He took his time deliberately, waiting for the music to stop so he could hopefully catch Laufeyson and say...

Something? What was he going to say? Something. Anything. Just let him know that everything was alright between them.

As he opened the door, he saw him already leaving by the side entrance, hurrying away.

Ah.


	9. Attempted Communication

"What kind of thing are you looking for?"

Thor tried desperately to focus on the present. Stop wondering and worrying about what exactly everything meant. He'd only get himself tied in knots.

But why had Laufeyson left in such a hurry like that? Did he have somewhere he needed to be? Or did he not want to talk? Was he scared? There was no need to be...

"I just need to make it more difficult for birds to nest in the gargoyles' mouths," Thor said. "It can't be good for them anyway. They must build in the spring in dry spells and then the rains come and destroy them. I really just want small bars that I can fix inside so the water can still get out but they have to find somewhere safer."

The smith was a stocky man, quiet, letting Thor rattle through his scrap pile, looking for suitable pieces. He should really have measured the channels first, but he was sure he could eyeball it, his pockets rattling as he headed back towards the church.

And then he had an idea. Probably a bad idea, but, well... He knew where Laufeyson lived. And he might be alone for at least a word, a confirmation that it was up to him what he wanted to do, that Thor was willing to do pretty well as much or as little as he wished. Even kissing alone, or even just talking together and becoming friends, he would love that.

He made his way down the right street - or at least he was fairly certain he was on the right one since he'd only been here in the dark before - knocking at what he was fairly certain was the right house.

It was a small cottage, one of a little terrace, a simple home. Whitewashed stone, a pot containing some kind of thorned plant sitting on the window ledge. Some kind of rose perhaps? He wasn't sure without leaves to give him a clue.

In the space between knocking and the door opening, the worry started to set in once more. What if he'd offended somehow? What if he'd completely missed his chance?

"Mr Odinson," Laufeyson said, opening the door. "What a surprise. Come in. I already have a guest, but the tea is freshly brewed."

Oh. Not alone then. And now Thor desperately needed to think of an excuse for being here...

He let himself be led into the main room, a parlour, so clearly that of a musician. There was an upright piano against one wall, a rotating bookcase full of music manuscripts next to it with more piled on the top. He had framed certificates, prints of various people that Thor didn't recognise - famous composers, perhaps? Virtuoso players that he respected?

And in an armchair, very neat and poised, was the priest, sipping from a china cup, the saucer held very gently in his palm.

"Please, have a seat," Laufeyson said.

"I, er..." Thor said as he fetched another cup from the kitchen and poured for him. "I just wanted to make sure I knew when the choir rehearse. I would hate to be disruptive when I'm working on the font. The chiselling could be quite loud."

Believable? He certainly hoped so.

"We meet generally on Monday, Wednesday and Friday," Laufeyson said, passing him the tea, Thor practically jumping out of his skin as their fingers brushed together. "But don't let us get in your way."

"It's only a few hours a week. It's not a problem. There will likely be some internal work on the roof that I can do during those times or cleaning up."

"I must say, it's very reassuring to know how diligent a worker we have employed," the priest said.

He smiled and Thor smiled back, feeling so awkward, so very, very uncomfortable... Laufeyson sat on his piano stool, sipping gently, the ticking of the mantle clock seeming incredibly loud.

What should he say? Should he gulp his tea and get out as quickly as he could? Had he interrupted some conversation here? But it would seem so rude to arrive and then leave so soon. He didn't have any work to do on a Sunday, he had no reason to rush away.

The silence was crushing... He desperately needed someone to say something.

"Is there much pastoral work for you this afternoon, Father?" Laufeyson asked.

"A little. Some people feel terribly lonely at this time of year. The pressure to feel joyful can be quite a curse. They find themselves noticing the empty chairs all the more and thinking of those not able to join them."

Thor remembered what Young Hilde had told him about Laufeyson, about his childhood and his loneliness. Maybe that was why the priest visited him so diligently.

"The dark nights can certainly be very long," Thor offered, taking another gulp of tea.

How could such a small china cup be taking him so long to finish?!

"As you say," the priest said. "I suppose I ought to begin my duties while the light is at its best. Mr Odinson, care to accompany me back to the church?"

"Of course," Thor said, trying not to curse him in his mind.

"Could you take some music down for me?" Laufeyson asked, leafing through his piles of manuscripts and producing a thin book. "I have a terrible habit of forgetting what exactly I'm minded to play and leaving it at home."

Was this some kind of test? Was this request really standing in for a different question?

"Certainly, Mr Laufeyson."

"Oh, please, call me Loki."

Thor felt his nostrils flare slightly, trying to keep himself under control.

"Alright. Good day."

He was clutching the music so tightly that he had to consciously unclench his fingers a little, forgetting that his pockets had metal in them as he rattled along next to the priest.

"Mr Odinson, you seem to be clanking somewhat."

"I'm sorry?"

"Your pockets..."

"Oh! Oh, er, yes, it's metal to put in the gargoyles to discourage the birds, that's all."

He showed him, a short length of iron, nothing more.

"And you intend to... mortar them inside the mouths?"

"That's right. They shouldn't be too visible from the ground and with any luck it will prevent nests blocking them up and therefore help fix the water ingress and protect the stonework."

He was babbling slightly, he knew, just trying to seem ordinary and not suspicious. But he thought the visit had gone well in terms of his true intentions. Laufe... _Loki_ must surely know that he had truly come to speak with him. And now they were on first-name terms even.

Or at least on one-sided first-name turns. In his surprise, he hadn't actually reciprocated yet. Oops.

"Do make sure you properly recover on your day of rest, Mr Odinson. It's what it's for."

"Of course. I will."

He headed inside, approaching the organ reverently, placing the music upon it like a holy object and only then reading the title.

_La Passione_

Would it be too much wishful-thinking to spy a hidden meaning? Maybe.

But also maybe not.


	10. Invitations

Laying slates was not exactly Thor's best skill, but he could manage, just about. It wasn't so much the actual doing of it, more having to be extremely careful not to break any of the delicate tiles. He had to get this right, being as gentle as possible. It made him nervous.

Each slate had a few holes in it that had been carefully made by the original roofers or builders to allow nails to be driven through them into the roof timbers. Fortunately, despite a little mould and moss and even what seemed to be a small pine tree making a spirited attempt to grow out of the exposed beams, the wood had been treated well enough that there was no rot involved.

He rescued the sapling, though he wasn't sure why. He figured he could plant it somewhere more convenient and give it a better start in life. Not that it would survive the frost, probably.

Maybe he'd give it to Loki to look after and put alongside his rose bush in the spring. He'd tried to talk to him this morning, but Hilde had come down to sweep the church. They'd had a nice little chat, but once again, he'd been foiled in trying to have the conversation he was longing for.

Little tacks from his bag - and he'd have to get more soon, before he moved on to another job - Thor carefully began hammering the slates back into place, building them up like scales on the back of a huge dragon.

He found himself singing as he worked. Not very loudly, but he went from a distracted hum to a mumble to genuine song. Adeste Fideles. It was in his head still, even if he didn't know all the words.

"Adeste fideles, da-da triumphantes, da-da-dah, da-da-ah-da-ah, Bethlehem..."

It helped a little. A little distraction, keeping him out of his head a bit and less likely to make mistakes. The hole would be filled soon and then he'd scrape off the damaged plaster and re-do it and with any luck, Loki's organ would be protected from the weather for decades to come.

He turned round to get another set of tacks, finding a familiar dark head poking up through the trapdoor.

"Oh," Thor said. "Hello. I didn't know you'd started already. I can stop hammering..."

"Why didn't you tell me you could sing?"

"I... What?"

"Why didn't you say that you can sing?"

Thor blinked and stammered.

"Because I can't?" he tried.

A smile, a genuine smile that had Thor practically swooning.

"It may be a rough tenor, Mr Odinson..."

"Oh, please, call me Thor. I meant to say."

"Thor, it may be a rough tenor but it's tuneful, it's trainable. And I have such trouble finding tenors. Come to choir practice. Sing with us."

"I'm not sure..."

"Thor. I would like you to sing."

Ah. Well...

He lowered his voice, wary of ears everywhere, someone passing underneath perhaps who might overhear.

"Alright. But are we going to talk about... the other evening?"

Loki sighed lightly, more like an exhale.

"I wasn't sure it had even happened," he said. "I thought perhaps I had imagined that I was so brave. That maybe I'd just dreamt it."

"I have been trying to find you alone, but..."

"I am very seldomly alone and never for long enough."

"Yes. Could you... find some time, that we might discuss it?"

"I'd rather find some time when you could fuck me."

Thor spluttered out a laugh, more shocked than anything else. He was right, then. Somehow, he was a fantasy figure for this handsome, intelligent man, a carnally desirable person.

"You're surprised," Loki said. "I thought we wanted the same thing. When I noticed your drawings of me, I thought.."

"I wasn't expecting quite such bluntness, perhaps. But I am interested. Very much so."

"Then we'll have to plan. And in the meantime, I'll let you work."

"Wait," Thor said, taking him the sapling. "Take this. It shouldn't be trying to grow up here, but I think it has a chance."

Loki took it gently, seeming slightly baffled, but promised to find a pot for it.

And Thor tried to get back to work. As if he could when his mind was now so full of that one word, a word he had never heard someone as refined as Loki say before. He was certainly a lot more relaxed finishing off his slate repairs, if only because he couldn't be too nervous about it with his head full of something else.

How were they meant to plan if they barely had moments alone? When could they possibly meet and guarantee time alone when Loki spent all his working time in the school and seemed to have such frequent visitors, especially the priest?

His fantasy of having all the time in the world to enjoy themselves was seeming less and less realistic.

And now he had to join a choir too? He'd never considered himself to have a good voice. He wasn't terrible maybe, but he was hardly good enough to manage harmonies.

Hopefully the others could help him.


	11. Choir Practice

"Right, warm-ups, please. We'll start nice and easy, groups of five on the vowel sounds with a nice crisp T..."

Thor had absolutely no idea what he was doing. He'd stood next to Volstagg, looking for an ally, frowning at the dots and lines in the hymn book and wishing he had any idea what they meant.

He could read the words, but while he knew what music looked like, he had no concept of what it was meant to tell him.

Copying everyone else, he sang up and down on different scales and didn't feel very warmed up at all. Except his cheeks. They were extremely warm. Would that help?

And he couldn't even ask anyone what they were meant to be doing. No one was speaking, all politely listening to the other types of voices and waiting for their turn.

Thor had a horrible fear that he was only here because Loki liked him and that he was going to ruin the beautiful sound that they had built and so he tried to blend in, deliberately singing quietly to hide his voice among the group and hopefully getting away with it.

Or so he thought.

"Have more confidence, lad," Volstagg said to him afterwards as he was putting on his coat. "He wouldn't ask you to sing if he didn't think you could."

Thor wasn't so sure about that.

"I fear he's just being polite by including me," he said.

"Impossible. Music means everything to him. If he married the most wonderful woman in the world but it turned out she was tone deaf, she wouldn't sing, love or no. If he thinks you can do it, you can. He has the ear for it."

Hm. Well, maybe he knew what he was talking about. Thor accepted his dinner from Hilde with his usual thanks, looking forward to having a little time to process everything that had happened that day, but it seemed he'd have to wait.

"Mr Odinson, would you mind dreadfully doing a little extra practice?" Loki asked. "Just to get you properly up to speed."

As if he'd say no to a few more stolen moments together, however outside his comfort zone this was.

He stood there rather awkwardly while Loki played notes on the organ for him to try to match, working out his range apparently. This was slightly easier, a more private setting, even if the priest did look in on them as Thor was holding notes and learning about breathing. His breathing was not terrible but also clearly needed some attention.

He'd always thought that he'd learned how to breathe when he was a baby...

"Joining the choir, Mr Odinson?"

Loki glanced over his shoulder, very relaxed.

"You know how difficult it can be to get lower voices sometimes," he said. "I'm afraid our mason made the mistake of singing while he worked while I was in earshot and now I've roped him in for the season."

"I really don't mind," Thor said, lying a little perhaps. "It's nice to be part of a community. I rarely get the chance in my line of work."

And besides, he thought, he might have a reason to spend more time with Loki with a plausible excuse for... whatever was going to happen between them.

"Well, I hope you enjoy it, but don't let yourself be too distracted, please."

"Of course."

Did he see Loki roll his eyes? Maybe. And, really, if Thor was honest, the singing wasn't exactly the thing most likely to distract him...

"The tenor line is generally quite simple," Loki said, leafing through a hymn book. "Most of the time, you'll have the familiar tune that you likely know, and you can learn the harmonies for the others. You won't have to read music or anything."

"Do you think I can't read it?"

Loki stopped and looked at him in surprise.

"You can read music?" he asked.

"No. But I might have been able to."

There was a beat and then Loki laughed. It felt good to make him smile, to see that mirth and knowing that he'd created it.

"You're right," he said. "You're right, I shouldn't assume what you can and can't do. What you have and haven't done before."

Suddenly they were talking about something else. And yet not talking about it at all. This was about hints and suggestions and hoping the other person understood. It was tricky to say the least.

"I've done... some things," Thor said carefully. "I'm open to suggestion, honestly."

Loki pressed his lips together, excited, thinking things over together.

"What about you?" Thor said.

"Not as much as I would like," Loki said softly. "You ought to sing another verse. Remember the quieter parts. Softness is just as important as loudness."

Thor tried to work out what exactly he meant by that while trying to breathe in the right places and letting his voice rise and fall. Apparently it was meant to come fairly naturally, but he was having to concentrate on it a lot.

Did Loki mean that he had done some acts and not others and he was hoping Thor would help him complete some sort of list or some particular ambition? He could do that, certainly, though it felt like a lot of responsibility.

Alternatively, did he mean that he had done everything he wanted but he wanted his quantity increased? He'd experienced something he enjoyed and wanted more. That had its own issues; something to live up to, whether reality or fantasy.

And when would they ever get a chance for it?


	12. Morning

For once, Thor was not woken by the organ being played. There were no chords ringing out, no runs of scales, no little warm-up tunes and no beautiful pieces for him to float away on, half asleep.

But he was instead woken by the click of the door closing and then a tall figure getting into bed beside him in the dark.

"Mmph?" he said.

"Good morning," Loki whispered.

And it was dark still, pitch black, barely any moonlight even.

"S'early," Thor mumbled. "Very early."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just wanted to steal a little time with you and this was all I could think of."

Oh, well... That was nice. He was only half awake, but he opened his arms, letting Loki roll on top of him in the narrow bed, letting out a warm little sigh as Thor automatically ran his hands over the outside of his clothes.

Even that felt good. Just touching, the simple intimacy of being close and physically in contact with one another when that was so forbidden to them. It wasn't even really sexual as such, more like... He couldn't bring a word to mind, but it was mainly just nice. Warming. Soothing.

Mm...

As he gradually became more aware, he realised that now was the perfect time to get something he'd been wanting and thinking about for days now, his hand roaming up Loki's back and to his neck, running his thumb along his jawline as Thor brought their mouths together.

No peck on the lips, this. This was a proper, yearning kiss, the simmering heat between them finally having a means of release, like letting steam out of a pot. In the warmth of his bed in the dark early morning, nothing else was needed but desire and passion.

Mm... Yeah, this was nice. He ran his fingers through Loki's hair, feeling the tie give way, loose tresses for him to stroke, finding his ears to gently trace his thumbs over those delicate shells. They were cold from outside and Thor delighted in the thought of warming Loki up.

He could do this. He could have this little affair. Just lust, no feelings. A stolen time of warmth and want in the depths of winter.

Judging from Loki's technique and skill in kissing, it was certainly not the first time he had done this. He knew what he was doing, not too much tongue, no grazing of teeth. It was like he was tasting Thor's lips, languorous and exploratory, confident and assured. And Thor felt part of him relax at that realisation, some relief that he did indeed already have at least some experience.

"Mm," Loki said, pulling back. "I wish we had more time."

"What did you have in mind?" Thor asked.

"I'm not even sure I would have time to describe it."

Thor ran his hands down Loki's body, over his buttocks, holding that warm flesh so boldly, a breathy laugh from Loki that had Thor biting his lip. What a sound! He'd known the sounds would be wonderful.

"I have a few thoughts," he said. "But it's nice just to hold you like this."

"It's nice to be held."

Thor lay in the dark, gently running his hands up and down Loki's body, pondering.

"Do you think the priest knows there is a spark between us?" he asked.

"He certainly suspects. He knows I have a... fondness for men and that if there were any sign of reciprocation, I would seize my chance. He's monitoring me the best he can but, well... Unlike God, he can't be everywhere at once."

"You've been caught before? And yet you're still in charge of the music?"

"Never caught as such, but he's irritatingly astute. Don't believe the affable act - he's sharp as a tack. Able to put two and two together. I think he likes to think he can save me from temptation. I don't want to be saved, though. Besides, there are surely worse sins than mutual enjoyment between two unmarried men."

That was certainly true.

"Anyway," Loki said. "I suppose I ought to get to the organ before he arrives. But maybe tomorrow, I could come down around the same time..."

"I'll make sure I go to bed early. Refreshed and ready for you."

"Should I... prepare in advance, then?"

Thor hesitated.

"Have you done that before?" he asked.

"Alas, not quite. Never found the right person at the right time. Have you?"

"Yes. And I would be honoured to share that with you, but I think we should perhaps build up to it."

Loki laughed, mischief in his eyes now that Thor could see him, growing accustomed to the darkness.

"Honoured?" he asked. "Thor, I'm asking you to fuck me, not chaperone me to a garden party. I want to be filled. I want to know that feeling and I want you to show me."

"I want to. I do. But I want to make it at least a little special. I want to create the best possible memories."

Loki leant forward to kiss him again, smiling against his lips.

"You're romantic," he murmured. "But I trust you. So tomorrow...?"

"Yes. Come wake me and we can start exploring together."

"That sounds wonderful."

It really did. And Thor was already imagining it as Loki slipped out of his arms. He would lay him on the bed and crawl down his body, show him all he knew about using his mouth.

He'd get to hear him gasp and sigh, find out just how he sounded, those noises he'd only fantasised about so far.

And in the meantime, he supposed he ought to work on the interior of the roof and think about actually making a start on the font...

Later. For a while, surely he could just lie in the dark and listen to a handsome man playing music so skilfully.

What a lucky December he was having.


	13. A Start

Strangely, part of Thor felt a little bad as he scraped off Volstagg's attempted repair of the roof plaster. He didn't like destroying other people's work. But this was likely only ever meant to be a temporary fix in any case, just holding back the worst of the rain until it could be sorted more permanently.

It took a surprisingly long time to get through the thick sludge of it, back to more solid material, a sharp cold breeze rushing through, a horrible draught that he needed to fix as quickly as possible, hurrying down the ladder to start mixing up the rough under layer.

"Mr Odinson," the priest said, sitting by the altar, a ledger open in front of him. "Good afternoon."

"Oh, hello. I didn't know you were here."

"Accounts are something of an earthly requirement, unfortunately. How are you enjoying your time with the choir so far?"

Somehow that didn't seem like the actual question he was asking.

"It doesn't come naturally to me, but apparently I have some ability. I'm happy to be included, though. I'm used to feeling like something of an outsider wherever I go."

"Well, as I say, don't feel obliged. Mr Laufeyson has a strong personality and has been known to lead people astray."

"Astray?" Thor asked, feigning confusion.

"Well, not astray perhaps, but into his little projects. He loves the choir and I think it does him good to have a focus. The devil makes work for idle hands."

"Maybe I should get back to plastering then," Thor said, forcing a smile.

He was clearly being warned away, just not in actual words. As was so often the case around sexuality, a lot was being left unsaid and barely implied and so he intended to pretend he had no idea what was being alluded to.

Let the priest think that any interest Loki was sending his way was falling entirely upon deaf ears.

The plaster would take some days to set fully, but hopefully the slates would protect it from any rainfall. Or snowfall, given how cold it was.

Right, the font...

First of all, he wanted to protect the church floor from dust, laying out some sheets and starting to properly draw out some of his design on the stone.

In many ways, this was his favourite moment. Looking at a chunk of rock and beginning to see what it might become. He'd have sweeps of wings on either side, like an eagle or an angel. He'd decided against putting a face on it; the cube shape didn't lend itself to that. But wings spreading from each corner, celebrating new life taking flight in the world...

It made sense to him, really. Whether anyone else would understand, he couldn't say.

Measuring was important and meditative. He'd learned a lot in his time about ratios and so-called magic numbers, ways of doing things that were pleasing to the eye, that flowed and patterned neatly. He'd have the longest feathers touching at the points, each one bisected with a smooth central quill, maybe some definition lines coming off it if he had enough time.

Sculpture was a unique art in that there was no going back. A painter could swipe their brush over a mistake and start over. A musician's errors were fleeting, momentary. But a slip of the hand in wood or stone and, well, options to undo it were limited.

Twirling his medium chisel, Thor brought it up and made his first cut, the sound of hammering echoing all around him as he drove shallowly into the surface of the font, beginning to pick out the basic outline.

He lost track of time. He often did when working like this, just him and the stone. He must have done hours' worth when he heard the familiar sound of the door opening, Volstagg popping his head in with dinner.

"Oh, very nice," he said, like any actual headway had been made.

"I hope it works out well," Thor said. "Sometimes the reality can't match up to the image in my mind."

"True of many things I think, unfortunately."

Mm. And now, as he ate, he was thinking about Loki and his desires and how he would live up to the ideal experience in his mind. Would he be able to satisfy him? What exactly was he looking for?

Based on his own history, he knew how easy it was to be disappointed by sex, especially if the anticipation had built up too much. He was determined not to be like that, not to let himself get into his own head too much.

They wanted each other. They'd figure it out together, find some balance between them.

And even though he kind of wanted to keep carving into the night, he kept his promise and went to bed early, blowing out his candle with excitement already blooming in his chest.


	14. Dawn Tryst

Part of Thor had wanted to wake up before Loki arrived, making sure he was ready for him, but he was glad to have the pleasure of being woken by a soft hand on his cheek, shuffling over to let him climb in alongside him, settling into kisses immediately.

Chilled lips turning warm, a leg thrown over his hip, fingers lacing into his hair...

There were definitely worse ways to start the day.

"Mm... Good morning," he mumbled, starting to shuffle down the bed.

"What's your big plan, then?" Loki whispered, clearly excited.

"What do you think it is?"

"Well, I don't know..."

"Then just relax and let me know if you like it."

It was so dark, making him operate completely on feel, hearing the soft sound of fabric rustling as Loki parted his legs to let him kneel between them. He knew what was going to happen really. Or he was hopeful, maybe.

Running his hands up Loki's thighs, Thor found the buttons on the front of his trousers, undoing them one by one, easing them down as Loki raised his hips to help.

His flesh was so warm even though he'd just been outside... Thor ran his thumbs over his hipbones, moving inwards, finding coarse hair and then the distinct heat of a thickening cock, trying to be gentle as he wrapped his hand around it, stroking lightly, hearing Loki take a long inhale. It was so exciting being touched by someone else, trusting and wanting someone to do that.

And Thor thrilled at being wanted and trusted in that way.

He leant down, flicking his tongue over the head, tasting salt and warmth, almost experimental, pleased by the sharp gasp. That was a good noise. He wanted more of that.

Licks became more like gentle kisses, moving down the shaft, finally drifting up and taking it fully into his mouth.

Loki made a muffled sound, like he was holding back, but that was alright, that meant he was trying not to be too loud and that meant he wanted to be loud...

He wanted to hear it all, but given the circumstances, Thor was satisfied with the knowledge that he was eliciting any good reaction.

And he'd barely even started... Sucking was easy, but Thor liked to think he had a few more tricks up his sleeves, alternating between taking it deep and retreating to focus on the head again, playing with pointing his tongue or long, lingering swipes, teasing and intense by turn.

The first touch of Loki's hand upon his head was like the spark of iron on flint, sending a jolt through him, humming in pleasure, letting him know that he could do this, he could lead, sucking all the harder as long fingers tangled through his hair, putting some light, instinctive pressure on Thor's head.

And since Loki couldn't cover his mouth anymore...

"Oh..." he breathed. "Mmm... Oh, Thor..."

Fighting back for a moment, Thor sat up slightly, keeping his hand involved.

"Tell me what feels good," he murmured. "Tell me what you like."

"Everything. All of this."

Thor chuckled, leaning back down, feeling the automatic thrust of Loki's hips, desperate to be back in the heat of his mouth.

"Fuck, you're good at this," he gasped. "Best I've ever felt."

Was that true or was it just a compliment? Well, no matter. He was going to please Loki as best he could, he was going to feel him spill...

He went deep, stroking the base of Loki's cock with his hand, hearing the gasping breath, feeling the tightening of his fingers in in his hair, giving all he could because he knew he was growing close.

The first time he had successfully made someone else climax had been an extremely exciting event in Thor's life. It had spoken to something within him, a proud part of him that enjoyed making over people happy, that loved knowing that his skill and prowess could do that, which took great personal satisfaction in doing it.

It was always a rush, knowing it was coming, taking someone to the edge and then over it.

He got the feeling that Loki was a little surprised by how enthusiastic he was, gasping for breath, reaching for him to pull him into an embrace. Thor could feel the heat of the flush on his face, how his hair had slipped from its tie.

And he reached beneath Thor's clothes to where he was hard and leaking, stroking with firm, strong fingers.

"Next time, I'll repay the favour properly," he said. "But time may be against us, I fear."

Thor didn't mind. He was just amazed this was actually happening at all.

He spilled quickly, already so aroused, taking Loki's face in both his hands to kiss him in the calm, warm peacefulness afterwards.

"Should I come to you next time?" he murmured. "I think your bed might be better suited."

"I wouldn't dare," Loki said. "The risk of being seen arriving or leaving is too much. At least I always come down to the church. There's deniability here."

That made sense.

They lit the lamp so Loki could tidy himself up, rinsing his hands and borrowing Thor's comb. Thor watched him untangle the light tousles and longed to do that for him. Maybe another time.

"I'm so glad you've come here," Loki said. "This can be a very dull town sometimes."

Thor grinned up at him.

"I'm glad I'm here too."


	15. The Roof

The church roof wasn't particularly high. Thor was grateful for that as he set up his ropes, double and triple checking his knots before carefully lowering himself a little over the edge. He wouldn't call what he did abseiling or rappelling, but that was essentially the idea; just walking along to where he needed to be at a rather different angle than normal, his legs braced against the wall.

The trowel clanked gently in his bucket of mortar, hanging off another rope tied to his belt so that when he was gazing into the mouth of the lion gargoyle, he could draw it up and scoop out the mixture to secure his chunks of metal in place.

Hopefully they wouldn't rust too quickly up here. They were very thick. It would take a while before anything gave way.

Slow work, though, requiring a lot of very careful manoeuvring. Despite trusting his ropes, it was almost impossible to let go of reassuringly solid stone, clinging to a carved mane and working one-handed. Mortar into the channel, carefully letting the bucket loose, reaching into his pocket to find the iron bar...

If he'd known in advance that this kind of work would be needed, he'd have made sure he had a frame to climb or a very high ladder, but it was barely worth it when it was such a small task - not even an afternoon's work - in the grand scheme of things.

One gargoyle down. He hauled himself back onto the roof, rolled his shoulders, and carefully untied all his ropes ready to move around to the next corner.

The animals were somehow one thing and the human figure quite another. He'd leave that one until last and hopefully spend as little time as possible looking into that uncanny face.

The lion and ox gave him no issues while the eagle was easily the most difficult one. The beak was a strange shape, impossible to get his hand into while holding the trowel, eventually just scooping mortar out of the bucket with his hand. He'd regret that when he was trying to scrub it off his skin later, but he needed to get this done.

He knotted his ropes around the last gargoyle, nice and secure, the first hints of dusk already beginning to fall. Loki would be finishing work with the children soon and coming down to practise before the choir arrived. And Thor was determined to try very hard to come out of his shell a little bit, to join in properly with the singing.

Flakes of mortar fell from his fingers as he swung his legs off the edge of the roof and walked his way along the wall, awkwardly holding on to the ears of the human figure.

Was it the teeth he didn't like? The square line of them, the lower set worn smooth by years of flowing water? Or was it the strange, dead eyes? He didn't like to criticise another sculptor's work, but something about that cold stare didn't work. It was unpleasant. From the ground, it wasn't so obvious, but up here, it was a bit unnerving.

Part of him almost expected the stone mouth to slam shut when he put his hand into it.

He was pulling up his bucket when he heard the crunch, the extremely worrying sound of stone scraping on stone, his heart leaping into his mouth as that stone face seemed to move to look down at him, impassive and blank but definitely giving way...

Some old mortar perhaps? Maybe this corner caught the chill winds and had experienced more freezing damage over the years. Maybe the stone had always had a fault and the original builder either hadn't known or understandably hadn't ever expected it to need to support someone's weight.

The reason didn't matter. What mattered was that the very thing Thor had tied himself to was not capable of holding him and he now had extremely limited options and was probably about to fall.

It was amazing how calm he was managing to be really. Maybe some parts of his mind had shut down in sheer panic, some kind of self-preservation instinct.

Right. No sudden movements; keeping his weight as well spread as possible.

He tried to edge sideways, reaching for the guttering, trying to walk his legs back along the solid wall and hoping it was taking at least some of the strain.

Something made an awful noise, a grating sound, a horrible lurch in Thor's stomach as he made a last ditch lunge for the safety of the roof, his feet slipping against the stonework, his hands slamming against the wall, dust and tiny chunks of rock hitting his face as the gargoyle cleaved from the roof and fell.

It hit the ground first. Thor wasn't far behind.

More or less vertical, he tried to bend his legs as he impacted, but there was only so much he could do, pain shooting up his body, his knees burning. Was something broken? Was everything broken?

How long did he lie alone on the cold ground? Later he knew that it was only moments, that Loki had actually been within sight of the church, that he saw him fall and turned back to run for help immediately - showing much more control and intelligence than Thor felt he might have displayed in the same situation had their positions been reversed - and then sprinted back to him once he knew the doctor was being summoned.

"Thor! Thor!"

Staring up at the darkening sky, it was strange what seemed important as Loki seized his hand, holding him so tightly. He kept looking at the empty space where the gargoyle used to be, the corner of the building that looked all wrong now.

"I can fix that," he said. "I can fix it."

"Shush," Loki said. "It's going to be alright. You'll be alright."

The pain was definitely there. He could feel it, sharp agony at first and then distantly, dully almost. Like he was getting used to it, or maybe getting cold enough to go numb.

"I can fix it," he murmured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you?


	16. Prognosis

"We can't move him without the doctor's permission," Loki was saying as Thor's eyes flickered open. He must have fainted for a few seconds. "We have to be sure that his neck isn't broken."

"I don't think it's broken," Thor groaned. "I think it's just my legs."

"You're in shock. You don't know what you're feeling."

Even through the pain, it was strangely attractive to see him taking charge, dispatching bystanders to fetch blankets, brandy and - for reasons Thor couldn't work out - a clean cloth.

"Am I bleeding?" he asked, trying to sit up a little.

"Don't move! You need to stay as still as possible until the doctor gets here."

Thor found himself tucked in on the ground, groaning in pain at even light touches to his legs. Whatever he'd done to himself, it was clearly serious and that was very worrying. Was he going to be able to work? How long would he take to get better?

At least he wasn't going to freeze though.

A boy appeared with a towel and a decanter, handing them over in a rush.

"The priest is coming," he said. "I told him what happened."

"Oh, wonderful," Loki said with no emotion at all. "That's just what we need."

He dipped the corner of the towel into the brandy and brought it to Thor's lips to let a few drops at a time splash onto his tongue.

"Really, I'm sure I can sit up," he said.

"Humour me. A little spirit for warmth, but not too much."

Maybe it was nice to know that he was so very, very careful, so intent on his wellbeing.

The shined black shoes and dark robe of the priest came into Thor's peripheral vision, hurriedly kneeling on his other side.

"Are you alright, Mr Odinson?"

"I think I'll live. I am in rather a lot of pain though."

"They're fetching Heimdall," Loki said. "And afterwards, I think we should take him to my house. The kitchen still has an old box bed in the corner and I can look after him better there."

There was a horribly long pause.

"I don't think that's a good idea," the priest said.

"Why not? I have the space. We can't leave him alone in the vestry."

"You're out all day at the school and you have choir practice in the evenings most nights..."

"The choir can come to us and I'll have Hilde look in whenever she can. My house is a lot closer to her than the church is. Why are you against it? It makes the most sense."

A long stare between the two of them. Thor wasn't sure he liked being talked over like this, but at the same time he didn't want to get involved. And besides, he'd attracted a little crowd. This was not the time for anyone to air suspicions.

Fortunately, they were interrupted by the arrival of a strange man, dark and stern, his coat flapping as he ran down towards them in a brisk but measured jog, a large leather bag in one hand and a lantern in the other.

"Good evening," he said. "What happened?"

"I was working on... On the gargoyle. It gave way. I fell."

"Mm... Onto your back?"

"No, I... I tried to hold on. Hit the ground feet first. My legs..."

The air felt freezing cold as the doctor pulled the blanket up, experimentally prodding Thor's shin, even a gentle touch making him yell in agony.

"I think you probably have some severe fractures," he said. "But it's difficult to tell in such poor light and I'd rather not cut off your trousers if I can avoid it. Where will you be staying?"

"I believe Mr Laufeyson offered me the use of a box bed," Thor said.

"Excellent idea. You might need assistance as you recover. We'll need some kind of stretcher."

His camp bed was duly produced despite the barely concealed glowering from the priest and Thor did his best to be helpful and pull himself onto it, trying not to whimper with the pain too much even though it was extreme, and then suffering the indignity of being carried back to Loki's cottage by seven or eight men.

Loki's kitchen was cosy, a range stove and rag rugs on the floor which Thor got to examine quite closely as Loki fetched linens and turned over the box bed. It was really more of a low chest with a mattress on it in an alcove, but it was also easily big enough for him, a luxury he didn't always enjoy. Three walls around it, open at the front. He'd slept in worse.

They lifted him onto it, camp bed and all, lighting candles and lamps for a better look.

Having his shoes removed was agony, gulping brandy in the hope that it would help. His ankles were swollen and by the time they'd helped him out of his trousers with intense difficulty, he could see that the swelling ran up to his knees, his lower legs purple and mottled.

When he'd imagined removing his clothes in front of Loki, it hadn't been anything like this...

"Try to move your toes for me," Heimdall said.

He could do it, just about, though moving any muscles in his legs hurt. So did even gentle touches, trying to tell what had happened.

"Well, it's definitely broken. Both legs. You're actually very lucky that I think your femurs are intact. That would have been much, much worse."

"How bad is it?"

"It'll take at least six weeks to heal, more likely eight. I'll come out tomorrow to immobilise you."

"Immobilise?"

"You'll be wrapped ankle to knee in bandages soaked in plaster of Paris to protect the bones as they knit back together. I should also be able to find a convalescence chair for when you're able to bend comfortably, but that could be some way off."

Six weeks? Eight weeks?! Thor saw it spiral out in front of him like an endless abyss. He was an outdoors type. He worked with his hands, outdoors, touching stone and earth. And now he couldn't move.

It was difficult not to despair.


	17. Stew

Eventually, the doctor and all the onlookers left, Loki gently and calmly closing his front door, and then rushing back, throwing his arms around Thor's neck despite the awkward angle.

"You could have died!" he said into Thor's hair. "I thought when I got to you, you'd be dead."

"I'm fine. I'll be fine."

He said that, though he wasn't totally sure of it himself. He'd seen other people with broken bones before of course, seldom both legs though. He was going to struggle for a while. He was going to lose some height probably.

But he would recover. And he knew he should be grateful for that, but it was difficult.

Kisses helped though. Sweet, scared kisses giving way to something more passionate.

"At least I have you here, all to myself," Loki said.

"Shame I won't manage to be very active."

"I'm sure we'll work something out."

Hm. Well, maybe that was a little brightness in the idea of being more or less bed-bound for well over a month.

"I hope I didn't damage the roof too much," he said. "I think it was just the gargoyle that came down and it wasn't structural, but it could still have caused some issues."

"It looked fine from the outside, but I'll take a proper look in the morning."

He organised the kitchen to better suit housing an invalid, bringing a small table through from his parlour to hold a lantern and any dishes, a chamber pot, books...

"What else can I bring you?"

"Um," Thor said, finding himself a little sleepy after taking rather more brandy than he was accustomed to. "Paper and pencil. I might... draw some designs for a replacement carving. But it's not urgent. You should see to the choir. I'll be alright."

He managed to sleep a little, waking up when someone came into the house. Hilde, with food. Thor felt distinctly uncomfortable being in bed in front of a woman he didn't know very well, but she seemed entirely unperturbed. Then again, she was a mother, he supposed. It wasn't like he had anything she hadn't seen before.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, putting a large pan down on the table.

A table that Thor only now noticed had the little pine sapling on it in an old cup, like a tiny centrepiece. Loki had kept it, safe and warm.

"Sore," he said. "But I think I'll survive. And I'm being very well looked after. I'm just disappointed in myself for being so stupid. I should have checked how sturdy the structures were before climbing on them."

"Accidents happen. And it could have been a lot worse."

That was true, though hard to believe when he couldn't even move his legs without great pain. Then again, it wasn't his back or his arms. He still had the use of his hands. He just had to let his body heal and be patient about it.

He wasn't terribly good with patience, unfortunately.

"I've brought enough for Mr Laufeyson too," she said, filling a bowl of stew for him, very at ease in someone else's kitchen.

"That's very nice of you."

"I knew his mother when I was a child and she was always very kind to me. I like to think I'm continuing that tradition by making sure her son actually eats occasionally. And besides, we have more than the average number of little ones at the school, so it's almost payment."

Thor felt his curiosity rise a little.

"Your daughter said his parents died when he was young," he said vaguely.

"Mm. I'm a few years older than him so I recall his mother quite well. She was very like him in a lot of ways. Sharp and quick-witted. She had a kind of... look and air about her that I'm not sure was beauty. More like a confidence. She didn't care what anyone thought of her, even though... Well, it's none of my business really."

"What isn't?"

She looked at him almost conspiratorially, as though weighing up whether she could trust him and deciding that she could.

"No one knows who Mr Laufeyson's father was. To be honest, it could have been almost any man in the town. Not that she had affairs with them all, but a lot of them carried something of a torch for Laufey. She was very free, very open. It was easy to be drawn to her. And she never told who it was. Perhaps she didn't know. And I think she was judged for that, that not only would she have a child alone but she wouldn't pretend it was a problem just to make other people feel better."

"What happened to her?"

"A fever, I think. She sickened when Mr Laufeyson was two or three. Quite sudden. And then the school master took him in, looked after him and steered him into his current life. And everyone just politely decided to pretend he was an orphan."

Thor chewed thoughtfully, wondering.

"Do you have a theory as to who his father was?" he asked.

"Honestly? Part of me believes it was a fae in the night. Don't laugh, I'm serious! If you'd known Laufey, you might think it was possible too. If anyone could attract an elf or a fairy, it was her."

Did she really think that? Thor wasn't sure. Perhaps she was merely being kind and not speculating.

Still, it was giving Thor more of an insight into his new lover. A lonely childhood, a love of learning and somehow music coming along to save him in some way, giving him a passion. But living in the school his whole life?

Well, no wonder he wanted to have some fun.


	18. Time Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've bumped the rating to explicit because it got a little steamy. I never know where the line is, to be honest, but maybe it's been crossed.

Thor was woken the next day by kisses, moaning lightly into the morning, hauling himself almost upright. He must have fallen asleep after Hilde left and not heard Loki come in.

"Heimdall will come this morning to splint your legs," Loki said, making him tea. "And then in the afternoon, I have an experiment I'd like to try."

The tone made Thor's ears prick up, intrigued.

"What kind of experiment?" he asked.

"You'll have to wait and find out."

It was simultaneously joyous and torture to spend the day with a frisson of excitement in his chest.

Hilde was the key keeper for Loki's cottage, letting Dr Heimdall in and helping him push an unwieldy wheeled chair through to the kitchen, one of her children riding it gleefully.

"It will be a while before you can use this," Heimdall said. "A few weeks minimum. But if it's here then it's ready when you are."

Thor was grateful it was just the two of them when he had to reveal his poor bruised legs and groan his way through having a wooden holding splint and wet bandages wrapped around each of them. The feel of plaster was unpleasant, cold and grainy. And it took such a long time.

"They'll dry in an hour or so," Heimdall said, washing his hands. "You won't have to think quite so hard about not moving."

"Thank you," Thor said, feeling almost like he'd been clapped in irons.

The rest of the day was long and tedious, trying to read but not really succeeding, sleeping some, eating the bread and butter that Loki had left for him on his side table.

The sound of keys in the lock was very exciting, the faint noises of a coat being taken off, a latch being put into place, footsteps down the hall.

"How are you feeling?" Loki asked, closing the kitchen door behind him.

"All the better for seeing you."

A smirk, slipping off his cravat, Thor's excitement rising by the moment.

"I've thought of little but you all day," Loki said. "About my idea. My ideas, plural, in fact. I've been terribly distracted."

"Tell me."

"Not yet."

He was undressing, but very slowly, almost casual, like this was the most natural thing in the world.

"It's four o'clock," Loki said. "Which by my count gives us an hour before anyone will be free to disturb us. Now, I doubt I'll be able to withstand that long, but there should be plenty of time for what I have in mind."

He'd stopped after removing his waistcoat and belt, the top button of his shirt undone for just the tiniest amount of skin to show and Thor knew he was staring.

"Keep going," he said. "Please, let me see you. All of you."

He watched Loki watch him as he resumed unbuttoning, a long, slow descent, his flesh revealed with no flourish or show and yet the most enticing thing Thor had ever seen. And then he stopped again, his fingers on the top of his trouser fly, toying with it.

"Should I turn around?" he asked.

Thor let out an involuntary sound of want, Loki grinning as he span and lowered his trousers, bending over, the curve of his behind fully revealed in a way that made Thor ache to sink his fingers into those muscles.

"You're so beautiful," he said. "My God."

Loki glanced almost coyly over his shoulder.

"Do you want to fuck me, Mr Odinson?"

If he hadn't already been hard, Thor's cock would have jumped at those words. There was a distinct bulge in the blanket, an unmistakable physical response.

"Desperately," he said. "But not yet. Let's build to that."

"My thoughts exactly," Loki said, approaching, his own erection jutting from his body as he pulled back the blanket, rubbing Thor through his small clothes before pulling them down around his thighs.

He bit his lip as he regarded Thor's cock, stroking it gently just once, like he was weighing it up, before starting to unbutton Thor's shirt for him.

"Now, it seems to me that our problem is that you cannot take any weight on your legs," he said. "But I hope we can work out a solution for that."

He swung his leg over Thor's body, sitting astride his stomach, touching him freely, exploring his chest.

"I think," he said carefully, thumbing over Thor's nipples. "That if I prepare properly, using my fingers and ideally yours too, over some days or weeks, that I'll be able to sit upon you much like this and take every inch of your cock into my body. Do you think so too?"

Thor tried to think through a haze of lust. That strangely detached voice was doing things to him, so matter of fact and somehow filthy too.

"I think so," he said. "I think we can."

Loki smiled down at him, shuffling back, finding the point where Thor's erection brushed up against his skin, grinding down in an approximation of the real thing.

"Just like this," he murmured. "Filled up. But for now..."

It wasn't the smoothest action, but he turned to face the other way, making Thor grunt as he wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking it curiously.

"I almost can't believe it will fit," he said thoughtfully. "You're quite certain you've done it before?"

"Yes," Thor said, reaching out to touch him, hands on the sharp protrusions of his hips. "And the other way round too."

"Hm... And does it feel good?"

"Mm-hm. There's a place inside that is particularly pleasurable."

"I know all about that, don't worry. I've used my fingers enough times, though not for purposes other than pleasure. Now, I believe there was something I wished to try."

He began moving back, little by little, and Thor realised suddenly that he was trying to get enough space to lean down and suck him, his behind lewdly close to Thor's face.

Did he know that when he leant down like that, Thor could see everything? Hidden flesh, a dark furl of muscle that he would soon ease open, so, so gently.

Thor moaned at the feeling of being engulfed in a warm mouth, an unusual angle, a tongue laving over the head of his cock, tasting him, and ran his hands over those two pale globes, squeezing a little and pushing them apart.

He could feel Loki's cock leaking against his stomach, hesitating, seeing what he would do.

What would be do?

"Just a little further back for me," he murmured, easing Loki into a lower bend, so that he could lean up and run his tongue up his cleft.

A strange cry from Loki and for a moment Thor thought he didn't like this, but then he wiggled, sucking on his cock almost unconsciously, tensing with excitement as Thor ran his thumb over his hole and then started kissing him there.

Not really kissing. More just touching with his tongue, but if the reaction was a good indication then Loki was enjoying this very much. He was letting out sharp breaths, moans muffled by Thor's length in his mouth, the warmth and vibration making Thor's head spin.

He hadn't even got a crick in his neck when Loki sat up suddenly, breathing heavily, his hand knocking against Thor's skin a little as he stroked his cock hard and fast, spilling over his stomach.

"I'm sorry," he panted. "I couldn't wait."

"Not at all," Thor said, running his hands up his thighs. "I'm very flattered."

"Well, hopefully we can do a little better than flattered."

He leant back down, long, languid sucks and then more intense, drawing Thor over the edge with the quick skills of someone who was very used to being short of time, turning round afterwards and snuggling into Thor's arms, being very careful not to so much as brush his legs.

"I'll clean us up in just a moment," he murmured.

"But this is too nice," Thor said.

"Yeah. This is too nice."


	19. Mother and Metier

In the warmth and peace afterwards, Thor's thoughts started wandering. He liked Loki's body very much, but he wanted to know more about him as a person too.

"Hilde was telling me that you used to live in the school house," he said vaguely.

Loki sighed, running his fingers up Thor's chest.

"Mm. What else did she tell you?"

There didn't seem much point in lying.

"That you're an orphan. And that no one knows who your father was and so you were raised by the school tutor and that's how you learned to teach."

"Well, if no one knows who my father is, how do they know he's dead?"

That was a fair point, actually.

Loki sat up and set a pan of water to heat, pouring some of it out when it was just warm for washing and letting the rest boil.

"Did she have any guesses as to who it might be?" he asked, swiping a damp rag over Thor's skin.

"She said maybe a fae creature."

Loki laughed, shaking his head as they both got dressed. Or as he got dressed, really. Thor just hauled his underwear back on and rebuttoned his shirt before pulling the blanket back around his body.

"Do you ever wonder who he was?" Thor asked as Loki made tea.

"No. He either didn't know and had a fleeting affair with my mother - and I've had enough of those myself not to judge - or he didn't want anything to do with her or me. Why bother thinking about him? He's not part of my life."

That was his choice. All the same, a small town like this... Someone probably knew, or had a suspicion.

"Do you remember your mother?"

"A little. I was very young when she died, though. But there are lullabies in my head that my tutor would never have taught me that I'm sure must have been sung when I was very tiny. I have a picture of her if you care to see it."

"I'd love to."

He took his tea gratefully, Loki heading through to his parlour and returning with a small, circular frame.

Thor had realised that he wasn't going to see a photographic plate, but somehow he hadn't been expecting a miniature oil painting either.

Well, she was very beautiful, that much was obvious. She had thick curls of dark hair left daringly loose, bright eyes, high cheekbones and a haughty air. She knew how handsome she was. Or whoever painted her did.

"Was she... rich?" he asked. "To have a portrait like this?"

"No, not particularly. It was done by one of her beaus, I think. An artist she knew. There's a note on the back that's very romantic, dated five years before I was born. Whether she returned his admiration, I'm not sure, but she kept the picture. When I saw your drawings of me in the church, it made me think of this. Made me think we might be having the same thoughts."

"There's a lot of her in you," Thor said. "The hair, the shape of your face."

"Mm. And everyone says how attractive she was, so I'm blessed with that, at least."

"And your talent," Thor said immediately, seeing Loki blush and try to hide a smile. "You're a wonderful musician."

"It's the product of hours of practice," he said. "The tutor who took me in was a kind man, but he only knew how to teach children, not really how to relate to them. A trait I fear I share, if I'm honest. And so music was how I spent most of my time, how I expressed myself. And as I grew and realised my desires were not the same as most other men, it became even more important to me. All the same, I could never be a professional."

"Why not?"

"Not good enough. If you ever hear someone play in concert, a real sonata or with an orchestra... That's real skill. I'm fine for a country parish church and I could probably teach to a fair level, but I'd never make a living from it. But that's fine. It still brings me joy."

"I feel much the same about sculpture. I'll never make enough money from it to give up masonry, but I love it so much that I'll take any chance to do it."

Loki smiled at him, sipping his tea.

"As with men, I feel. I take my chances where I can."

"Likewise."

There was a knock on the door, Loki sighing and winking as he headed through to answer it, taking the picture of his mother with him.

"Good evening," he said to whoever was there. "Care for a cup of tea? It's freshly made."

"No, thank you. I won't stay long. Just thought I'd pop in at the end of my day to check on our invalid," the priest said, his footsteps approaching.

Thor tried his best to look innocent and hoped the room didn't smell too much like sex.

"All the better for being properly bandaged and immobilised," he said. "We were just discussing our respective callings. Music and masonry."

"I see. Speaking of callings, I bring a request from Young Hilde that since Mr Odinson is here to supervise, she might be permitted to come in and work on her studies in peace during the day when she brings him lunch. A little quiet away from the younger children."

"I don't see why not," Thor said. "I'm sure she won't bother me."

Maybe he'd even manage to get a little conversation to help break up the long, lonely hours, not that she'd want to talk to him probably...

"Well, I suppose that's the chance for lunchtime trysts out of the window," Loki said after the priest had left.

"Were you planning some?"

"Of course. It's not often I have a keen partner lying in my kitchen. I was planning to make the most of it."

It was nice to be so wanted.

All the same, Thor wished it was in somewhat better circumstances.


	20. Days

The first visit from the choir was something of an event. There weren't even very many of them, but it was still a lot of people to cram into Loki's kitchen, hearing their notes on the piano in the parlour and being conducted from a chair.

They were doing this for him and so Thor did his best, sitting up very straight so as to breathe properly. Loki talked a lot about about a muscle called the diaphragm and how important it was to use it. Mainly Thor just felt like he was sticking his stomach out, but he was trying.

And maybe he was even improving. He was feeling his chest vibrating a lot more, feeling like he was much more in control of his voice, both notes and loudness.

He enjoyed it, but he wasn't totally sure why he was being included. He wasn't going to make it to the Christmas service unless they were going to have it in the cottage, which didn't seem plausible...

The days were still long, though. He was woken by kisses and tea, which was delightful, but then he was alone for much of the day unable to move.

He was reading a lot. Loki had given him a vast array of books and some of them were very enjoyable. He sketched when he felt inspired. Apparently, the gargoyle he'd fallen with had smashed beyond repair and Thor was already trying to design a replacement. A less disconcerting one.

For one thing, he had the flow of water coming out of the book rather than the human mouth... He found that style too odd. And surely it was a little undignified?

Maybe the face he was trying to draw was a little familiar. And maybe that appealed to him - if he did this well enough, he could create a representation of Loki that would live on the roof long after both of them were gone. No one would know who it was based on after a few generations probably, but he would.

This was probably too romantic for a winter affair... Loki might not appreciate it. While they enjoyed each other's company, spending every evening eating together, talking, reading in each other's presence, and while it was impossible to maintain any mystery when Loki had to do everything for him from emptying his chamber pot to bringing him water to sponge bathe in, Loki had also made it clear that this was a physical relationship only.

Which made sense. Once Thor had healed and finished his work, he would be off to the next job with only happy memories. There was no point in developing feelings or a deeper connection. Loki was a very attractive and vivacious man who wanted to have a good time. He ought to be grateful that he wanted to have that good time with him.

It was easier in the moment. When Loki locked the door and drew the curtains and climbed into bed with Thor, his mind was focussed on only that moment.

They were going slow. Or Thor was anyway. They were limited in terms of position, of course, so he couldn't do everything he might want to, but his favourite thing was feeling the vibrations of Loki's moans against his lips. The sounds he made spoke to every part of his desire, everything from the sighs to the occasional cry.

Having such brightness in his nights did make the days very dull though. Young Hilde came in every day to deliver lunch and do her school work, but mainly he left her in peace. It was the sense of not doing anything physical that was starting to affect him really.

"I'm a hands-on type fellow," he said to Loki one evening.

"Yes, I've noticed."

"Not that! Well, yes, that too, but I just wish I had something to really work on during the day. My hands are getting soft."

"Oh, dear," Loki said, coming closer and examining his fingers. "And we can't have that, can we?"

He kissed each of Thor's callouses, looking at him from under his lashes.

"I'll see what I can do about it," he said. "Maybe we can get you some soap stone or something."

"I would love that. Thank you."

Loki held two of Thor's fingers together, looking very thoughtful.

"You know, I've ordered some extra cooking oil from the grocer," he said softly. "Maybe tomorrow night, after the choir has gone... Just your fingers for now."

Well, it certainly wasn't an unappealing idea...

Thor reached for him, encouraging him to sit astride him, still fully clothed.

"How much have you taken before?" he asked.

"Oh, hardly anything. Just my own middle finger, seeking out just the right place. I read a book about the Greeks, you see, really quite shocking, but I'd had no idea such a gland existed. And from there, the curiosity about being filled was sparked but I've never had a chance to try it before."

"Alright," Thor said. "Then we'll go slow and gentle."

"You've done it before, though. Tell me about it."

Thor laughed a little.

"What, the details?" he asked.

"If you're comfortable relating them."

Thor hesitated for a moment, but then again, why not? He never got to talk about this aspect of his life.

"My first experience of it was with a young man I met working in a builder's yard. In truth, we were not emotionally suited to one another at all, but, well, chances for such affairs can be difficult to come by, as you know. And he showed interest in me, so... We had a dalliance."

"Is that what you call it?" Loki asked, cuddling into him properly. "Am I a dalliance?"

"No, darling, you're much more like an affair. Much, much rarer."

The endearment had slipped out automatically, but Loki didn't seem to have noticed. Or maybe he didn't mind. Maybe he thought it was a joke.

"Well, how was it?" Loki asked.

"Painful," Thor said truthfully. "At first. But then I relaxed and he found a better angle and... Well, I discovered that actually I rather liked it and our next attempt was much more successful. But preparation is key."

"Mm. I can hardly wait."

Yes. It would be fun.


	21. A Secret

"Sh... Shlaf... Schlaf im himmlischer... Ruh..."

Thor was trying to get his mouth around the unfamiliar vowel sounds. He really wanted to be better for the next rehearsal. According to Hilde when she dropped off dinner, Volstagg had been talking about how well he'd been coming on, that his tone was very nice and that he just needed a little work on the sounds to be really quite a good singer.

Since Young Hilde had already gone back to school for the afternoon, he didn't realise the door had opened and that he was being overheard until the priest knocked on the kitchen wall.

"Sorry to disturb you," he said as Thor tried not to be embarrassed, caught singing to himself. "I just wanted to look in on you, see how you are. It's been a week since the accident, after all."

"Feels both longer ago and more recent, somehow," Thor said.

"Well, we're leaving the steps to cure a while longer but most of the other problems have already been fixed. You should just focus on getting better. But I wanted to check how well you were getting on with Mr Laufeyson."

"Fine," Thor said, trying not to sound suspicious. "He's a very interesting fellow and being very accommodating."

"Good. Good. Nothing... concerning you at all?"

"No. Are you expecting there to be a problem?"

Maybe confronting him would help move him on. Pretend nothing was happening. Dare him to make accusations.

The priest paced the room a little, his long robes swishing lightly against the floor.

"I knew his parents, you know," he said. "There's a lot of Laufey in her son. She was very clever, very... attractive. She got a lot of attention from suitors. But unfortunately, she had a habit of falling in love with unattainable men. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Not really."

He sighed, leaning on Loki's table, his eyes on the pine tree but not really looking at anything.

"Loki prefers the company of men to that of women," he said. "I noticed this... proclivity some years ago. He developed an infatuation with a newcomer to the town. I don't believe it was returned, but he certainly had deep feelings for this man and when he moved on... Well, Loki was devastated. I do not want that to happen again."

Thor was a little surprised. This was not the objection he had expected, especially not from a man of the cloth.

"You're worried that he might be in love with me?" Thor asked. "I'm sure that's not true. We've barely known each other as much as a month."

"Mr Odinson, I am asking you to be careful. You may not realise the effect you could have on him. I know what it is to have one's heart broken and I can't bear to see that happen to him. Not again."

A suspicion was growing in Thor's mind. This much care, the lack of judgement... Whilst it wasn't impossible that this was a priest's concern for a member of his church, it felt more personal than that. And the things he was saying about Loki's mother...

"Are you his father?" Thor asked outright.

The look told him everything he needed to know. The shock, the fear in his eyes. A secret long hidden threatening to come out.

"What?"

"You said you knew his parents," Thor said. "But he told me that he has no idea who his father is. So if you know, then..."

"She could have confided in me," the priest said uncertainly. "Told me who it was."

"She fell in love with an unattainable man. Who is more unattainable than a priest?"

They stared at each other for a moment, a stalemate, and then the priest sighed again, looking away.

"I've never told another soul," he said softly. "It's been between myself and God ever since she died."

"I won't tell anyone," Thor said. "It's not for me to judge."

The priest slumped slightly, like a weight had been placed on his back rather than lifted from it.

"I'm still a man, despite my vows," he said. "With all the weaknesses that go with that. I still have flesh and blood and a heart. Laufey was the most remarkable person I had ever met. Beautiful, yes, but it was more than that. She was magnetic. So sharp, so... Just everything. She was wonderful. And I was weak. I fell in love, I... I knew her as a wife. And Loki was the result of that. We agreed that no one would ever know the truth, but that I would support him in every way I could."

"Does he know?"

"No. No, I don't think so. I never told him, even if secretly I feel it like a knife in my heart every time he calls me father. Please, do not tell him. I beg you, don't."

Thor wasn't sure. He felt Loki had a right to know, but then again, it was not his secret to tell. It was difficult.

"There is... something between Loki and myself," he admitted. "An attraction. But I assure you that any... relationship we might have has no depth to it."

"I only wish you could guarantee that. When Loki falls, he falls hard. You might not even realise it has happened. Be gentle with him. He's more delicate than he knows. Laufey was just the same. And so am I, if I'm honest."

All the time he'd thought the priest was trying to step between them because he considered their affair immoral when really he'd just been trying to protect his son from pain, from potential heartbreak.

Thor had a lot of respect for that, even if he did think there ought to be more honestly from everyone.

"I promise," he said, holding out his hand. "I'll be careful."

A shake, surprisingly strong from such a slight man.

"Thank you. And I must admit, of all the men I've ever had concerns about, you seem like one of the most decent. If life were different..."

"You might have married Laufey."

"And you might be able to build something between the two of you."

"Yes."

At least they seemed to have an understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well done to everyone who saw this coming - though I hope there's still been a bit of a surprise for you.


	22. Guilt

"Good work, everyone," Loki said as the choir gathered their coats. "Even since Sunday, a great improvement. Christmas is going to sound wonderful."

Volstagg gave Thor a nudge on his way out.

"Don't worry, lad," he said. "We'll get you there."

Thor wasn't totally convinced, but smiled anyway. He wasn't going to be able to walk by then at all. There was surely no way to manage it.

Loki bid everyone goodnight before bustling back into the kitchen.

"You've been practising," he said. "I can tell. Is that how you spent your afternoon?"

Thor felt a little pang of guilt at lying. He was torn, but would telling him actually help with anything? It wasn't as though he cared overly about who his father might be. And he might be hurt all the more if he knew the truth had always been right in front of his eyes.

"Among other things," he said.

"Well, I do have an idea or two to help with your boredom problem..."

He'd been to the grocer's, a vessel of oil that Thor would describe as a flagon rather than a bottle among his purchases. Lots of it, plenty for any activities they might dream up.

And yet Thor found himself hesitating. He had a vague feeling of sickness in his stomach. He knew something about Loki that he didn't, a huge part of his life.

"Is it the wrong type?" Loki asked, catching his expression.

"No," he said, forcing a smile. "No, it's perfect. You're perfect."

All the same, as Loki came close, sitting on the edge of the bed, Thor felt so, so guilty.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Everything's fine."

"Has anyone ever told you what a dreadful liar you are?"

He needed a plausible excuse for being out of sorts. Some kind of reason for it.

"The ache in my legs has been bad today, that's all," he said. "I'm worried that I won't be able to impress you as well as I would hope."

Loki's concerned frown softened a little.

"We're still preparing for now, aren't we?" he asked. "Of course I'm very keen to... achieve our mutual goal as soon as possible for the maximum amount of enjoyment before you have to move on, but since you're the expert, I'm happy to follow your lead. And maybe I can take your mind off the pain?"

Just don't break his heart. That was all he had to do. This was all just a bit of fun.

"That sounds like it would help a lot," he said.

Loki grinned at him, placing the oil and a bowl on his little table and starting to undress.

"How do you want me?" he asked. "What will be easiest?"

"Erm..." Thor said.

The truth was that he wanted to see Loki's face, but being unable to move meant that angle would be tough on his wrists...

"Why don't you show me what you like to do," he said. "When you use your fingers. And then we can try some more stretching, nice and gentle."

Loki's eyes had darkened slightly, bringing over a chair, sitting in it sideways so he could lean back far enough.

"Well, I would start on the outside," he said, reaching past his thickening cock, pressing against the smooth skin above his hole. "Nice and gentle, just... Just a little pressure. It feels nice. And then I would get some oil."

Thor uncorked the flagon for him, watching as he carefully poured some into the bowl to dip his middle finger into, just the tip at first.

"I like the feel of it on my skin," he said, leaving a shining trace around those tight muscles. "And then I try to relax a little. Take some deep breaths."

Thor knew he was practically licking his lips, staring at where Loki was rubbing his finger in little circles, his breathing getting heavier as Loki sat up, dunking the whole length of his digit into the oil.

"And then, when I'm ready..."

It took him a while. A lot of pressing, his eyes tightly closed, holding his breath and then gasping, but little by little, he worked his way inside, sighing happily as he began rubbing, barely pulling out at all.

"Mm... Like this."

His gaze met Thor's, such heat between them, spreading his legs all the wider to really let him look.

"I think your fingers would feel even better," he murmured.

Thor let out a shuddering breath, his cock straining in his small clothes so much that he had to push them down, almost ripping at the buttons on his shirt.

"Come here," he said. "If you face my feet, that's probably best."

Loki swung his leg over him, settling into a familiar position, stroking Thor's cock idly, glancing back over his shoulder as Thor gazed at his slickened skin for a moment before dipping his index finger into the oil.

He sank in fairly easily, Loki letting out a pleased little hum as he started sliding his finger in and out, rocking back slightly to match his rhythm. He was so hot inside, just perfect, and Thor felt almost dizzy with want.

Later. Building up to it. Making it better.

"I'll try two now," he said.

"Yes, please."

Using plenty of oil, enough that it dripped onto his chest, this was a little more difficult. Loki tensed slightly, gasping sharply, gripping the sheet.

"Relax," Thor said. "Just relax for me."

He went back to one finger, more oil, trying again a few moments later and this time...

"Fuck..." Loki said.

"You alright?"

"Yes. It's just... Ooh, it's a lot."

Thor stroked him from the inside very gently, hearing his breathing catch a little.

"We can stop if you want," he said.

"No, keep going. It's starting to feel nice."

"Really?"

"Mm. I like the stretch."

Thor felt around a little trying to find the right spot, gratified by the little sound Loki made when his fingers brushed against it.

His body clenched around Thor's fingers, instinctively finding an angle where he could reach under his body, panting as he stroked his cock, finally spilling on Thor's stomach...

Thor ran his clean hand up his back, feeling a wave of warmth and affection roll through him.

"Come here," he said. "I'll handle myself."

It was wonderful to wrap an arm around Loki, kissing and holding him close as he satisfied himself.

"How was it?" he asked afterwards as Loki washed the oil off their skin.

"Intense. I'm glad we're going slow - it's more difficult than I had imagined. And now I'm cold."

Thor chuckled, fluffing up the blanket and inviting him back in. He wished they could sleep in the same bed, but there wasn't really enough room.

And in the sweet, soft cuddles, his mind sprang back to worrying. Should he tell him what he knew? It had nothing to do with him really. And he was curious too, about the man Loki had been in love with. But how could he bring it up without it being suspicious?

"You know, I told you about my first time," he said. "But I don't really know what kind of things you've done."

"Not much in comparison. It's hard to meet people and harder to find time to explore together. I've only ever been with men who were passing through and it was generally quick touches, kneeling in the hallway to rush... This is much better."

"So there's never been anyone you... I don't know. Had feelings for?"

Loki shuffled slightly, like he was uncomfortable.

"I've had infatuations before," he said vaguely. "But seldom for the same men that I've had experience with. There was... one man who I thought returned my feelings. He moved here for work, a kind of assistant to Volstagg, and we became firm friends. Spent long evenings together talking and laughing. I loved him, I think. He was funny. And he had this deep voice, a bass baritone, that almost made your bones vibrate."

The warmth in his voice was palpable. There was still great affection here.

"What happened?"

"I tried to kiss him," he sighed. "I thought we were feeling the same things, and so one night as we sat drinking on the chaise, I got bold and leant towards him and... He didn't feel the same. And he was very kind about it, let me down gently. In truth, I don't think I was the first person to fall in unrequited love with him. But things were never the same. They couldn't be. I was always secretly hoping that he'd realise he loved me too and he knew that he never would and so... So he left. He told me he didn't want to torture me anymore and so he moved away."

"I'm sorry," Thor said.

"Oh, don't be. Now I'm just very careful with my heart. Only bodies. Much neater."

That made a lot of sense.

But didn't necessarily make it any easier.


	23. Convincing

Nothing like long days to really allow things to sit and fester. Thor was starting to feel more and more agitated.

Loki deserved to know who he was. He deserved to understand that his parents had loved each other but couldn't be together openly. It was clear that the father - his father - cared about him deeply and maybe he didn't know that.

He ought to know. Thor was sure of it.

And yet...

He shouldn't be the one to tell him. The priest should tell him the truth. But how was he supposed to convince him of that when he couldn't get out of the house or even so much as out of bed to talk to him?

Fortunately, he had someone who could carry a message for him.

"Good afternoon, Mr Odinson," Young Hilde said from the parlour. "I just have a bit of maths to do."

"Of course," Thor said. "Carry on. Could you do me a favour, though?"

She popped her head into the kitchen, a concerned little frown on her face.

"What?"

He held out a scrap of paper torn from his notebook to her.

"I need this taken to the priest, please."

She took it from him, slipping it into her pocket.

"I'll try, if I have time."

"Of course," he said.

Obviously, he hadn't written what he wanted to discuss just in case she should accidentally (or less-than accidentally, knowing adolescents) read it, but he hoped he was being clear enough.

_I would be grateful if you could visit me again soon. I found our conversation very interesting and would like to discuss it further. Sincerely, Thor Odinson_

It was a few days before he came. The note was apparently delivered promptly and he trusted that Young Hilde was telling the truth. But maybe the priest couldn't quite face him. Maybe he knew what he was going to say.

Loki was behaving oddly too. He kept smiling to himself, like he was enjoying a little private joke. Whatever it was, he was clearly thrilled about it.

Maybe he was just excited that they seemed to be getting closer to his goal of being able to discover what being full felt like. They had continued practising, slowly but definitely, and in truth Thor thought he was ready but he didn't want to rush. Even when he had three fingers crooked within Loki's body and the blood was rushing in his ears and he felt such intense desire, he held back. They had time still and it would be better to wait.

Or maybe he didn't want to go that far when his heart was still heavy with the guilt of knowing something so intimate about him.

It clawed at the pit of his stomach like a cat disembowelling something small and fluffy, both when he was alone in the day but especially at night. And if he was feeling that so acutely, how must the priest feel after keeping it secret for thirty years or so?

Apparently he felt dreadful judging by his appearance when he finally came to see Thor one afternoon. There were shadows under his red-ringed eyes, like he hadn't been sleeping at all. He looked ill, his natural thinness turned almost gaunt.

"You have to tell him," Thor said. "It's unfair not to. He deserves to know."

"I promised Laufey that I would never tell anyone."

"But surely she didn't mean her son! Surely since she loved you both, she would want you to be honest with one another."

"To what end? So he knows that he's been lied to his whole life? That I left him alone?"

"You didn't, though. Who paid for his schooling? Why is there such a fine organ in the church? You bought that for him, an instrument to match his skills. And you try to protect him from pain. Because you love him. He is your son. And he should know that."

The look he was thrown was like a shard of ice, practically feeling the chill of it.

"You think you can walk in here and know everything about us and what we need? You know nothing about us. You know nothing about me or Loki, and you certainly know nothing about Laufey or what she would have wanted."

"But you do," Thor said. "Do you really think this is what she would want? Secrets between you forever? Or do you think that when Loki was old enough to understand that she would have told him the truth?"

He didn't know if this line of argument was going to work. The priest was right; he hadn't known Laufey or what she wanted. But from what everyone had told him about her - that she was passionate and free, that she didn't care what people thought of her - he couldn't imagine that she would have lied to her son. Not once he was mature enough to be able to see the reasons for the deception.

"She wanted it to be a secret," the priest said quietly. "But I know that was for my sake. She didn't want me to face the disgrace of being defrocked. I thought about it sometimes. I wouldn't be the first to fall in love and decide to take the life of a husband and father instead. There were times when I thought that was the right path, especially when she told me she was pregnant. I proposed to her, but she wouldn't hear of it. It was my calling. Not necessarily the church itself, but caring for the community. I was sure I could continue to do that in a secular way, but she was adamant. People come to me for help because I am a priest. God would understand, she said."

"And what did you think?"

"I thought I ought to leave the priesthood. I thought we ought to marry and move away, start again. She didn't think we had to. She said we could carry on as we were. And after all, we were happy. If I'd known we'd only have three more years, maybe I would have been more... vehement."

"Hilde said it was a fever," Thor said uncertainly.

"Pneumonia. It was... unexpected. And it was agony to stay away, to know she was so ill and that I could do nothing for her. And when they did send for me... It was to give her the last rites."

There were tears in his eyes, his voice shaking. Thor wished he was close enough to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, anything.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I can hardly imagine."

"She held my hand at the end. At least I could do that for her, be there with her. And she asked me to take care of Loki. As if I wouldn't!"

"She trusted you," Thor insisted. "She loved you. And she would want you to do the right thing."

"But what if it isn't the right thing? I can't... The risk is too great. I can't tell him."

"Tell me what?" Loki asked from the doorway.

They hadn't even heard him come in.


	24. Truths

Loki's eyes flicked from one of them to the other, worried and scared, his nostrils flaring.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"You're home early," Thor said.

"The snow's getting very heavy and I decided everyone should leave just in case it gets worse. Didn't want to be stuck in a school house overnight with twenty children and no food or beds. But don't try to distract me - tell me what's happening."

Thor looked to the priest, giving what he hoped was an encouraging look. He was certain this was right. Everything would be fine.

He watched the battle in the priest's face. He was pale, running a hand over his eyes to try to wipe away his tears, almost trembling.

"Why don't you have a seat?" he said. "I think we should all... sit down first."

With suspicion practically radiating off him, Loki took a chair closer to Thor, sitting up very straight, his hands on his knees. The priest sat at the table, clearing his throat, very tense.

"I know that you and Mr Odinson are involved," he said.

Loki jumped like he'd been stuck with a pin, but only for a second, his voice steady and calm.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said. "You must have misunderstood something."

"Loki," Thor said. "It's alright."

Huge eyes turned to him, shining, horrified to have been found out. Thor leant over, reaching for his hand, squeezing his fingers, trying to be reassuring.

"It's alright," he repeated. "Don't worry."

A heavy sigh, the first of many Thor felt, the priest running a hand over his head, leaving his silver hair awry.

"I understand what it is to have feelings you have to hide," he said. "I fell in love once myself. I tried not to, but... Sometimes it's difficult when two people feel the same way to resist one another, even if you want to."

"What, you're... You're attracted to men?" Loki asked.

"No. No, it was a woman I loved. We... had an affair and she became pregnant."

He was speaking in a strangely detached way, like he was trying to stay distant, but his eyes focussed in the end, really addressing Loki properly.

"It was your mother, Loki. I'm your father."

There was a pause, a long pause, Loki's hand going limp in Thor's grasp, shock all over his face.

"But that's ridiculous," he said eventually. "You can't be. You must have made a mistake."

"No. We were in love, we... We had a relationship. We kept it secret."

"But you're... But she was so glamorous."

A laugh, a sad little laugh.

"I know. I'm not sure what it was, but she saw something in me. Maybe I was even passingly handsome back then. I don't know. Whatever it was, we had a connection. Real feelings, plans and dreams. And you came from that."

Loki was practically trembling now, shaking his head.

"You didn't tell me..."

"I thought it was for the best. I thought it was what she would have wanted. But Mr Odinson has helped me realise that I did it for selfish reasons."

There was a long pause. Thor couldn't tell how well this was going. They weren't shouting. Was that good?

"You're ashamed of me," Loki said softly. "I was a mistake."

"No! No, you weren't. You were unexpected, but never regretted. Never."

A loud sniff and Thor realised to his horror that Loki was weeping, trying to reach for him to give him the support of a hand or an arm.

"All these years," he said. "All my life, you were right there and you never said!"

"I'm sorry."

"People tried so hard to be kind to me, you know? Got to be nice to Laufey's poor bastard, left motherless and never had a father and all that time, you said nothing... And was she the only one? How many affairs have you had down the years? How many other 'unexpected' children?"

"None. It was only ever her. I loved her. I would have married her in a heartbeat if that was what she wanted."

"Preaching about truth and all the while lying..."

"Perhaps it would be better if you discussed this in private?" Thor asked, catching the priest's pained expression.

Loki stood up jerkily, like a puppet with too-long strings, heading for the parlour like he was sleepwalking. Thor watched as the priest reached out towards his back as though to comfort him and then drew his hand away, just following and closing the door softly behind them.

Thor stared at the ceiling, his stomach rolling.

What had he really expected to happen? The joyful reunion of father and son? He was so naive sometimes.

He could hear voices through the wall, but not what they were saying. It wasn't shouting, at least. He couldn't hear wailing or yelling. Emotions were clearly high, though.

He wished he could move. He wished he could make a cup of tea for everyone, or make dinner, something. This was the worst thing, being unable to do anything practical to help.

How long did he sit there feeling horribly awkward until the door opened again? Surely several lifetimes.

And Loki had pillows and blankets with him.

"The snow is much too heavy to go out in safely, even for a short journey," he said. "He's going to take my bed and I'll bunk in with you. As long as that's alright?"

"Of course," Thor said, even though he wasn't totally convinced they'd fit comfortably.

He shouldn't have worried. Loki cut up some cold roast meat from the day before, warmed through some soup. The priest came in and sat, but it seemed they weren't quite ready to talk again yet. Thor felt like he'd caused some kind of explosion and now was forced to sit in the cold, silent aftermath.

It was a relief when they went to bed, Loki clambering over him to huddle himself in a tight ball next to the wall.

He relaxed a little as Thor stroked his shoulder. A little comfort.

At least he could do that.

"How did you know?" Loki murmured.

"Hm?"

He rolled over, facing Thor in the dark.

"I've spent my whole life wondering who my father was and you come here for a few weeks and figure it out immediately."

"Sometimes it's easier to see things as an outsider," Thor said gently. "But it was when he came to warn me not to break your heart that I realised something here was personal."

"He came to _what_? How dare he? It's none of his business!"

"He cares about you, Loki," Thor said. "He really does. He's terrified that we'd have an affair and you'd get hurt. He loves you; that's why I wanted him to tell you the truth, so you could know that. So he might feel he could show it more."

"How long have you known?"

"A few days, no more than that."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not my secret to tell. I wanted to give him the chance to do it himself."

"And if he'd refused, would you have told me then?"

Thor hesitated.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe. Probably. I thought you had a right to know."

Loki rolled over again, but shuffled back against him, letting Thor stroke his hair. He wished he could curl around him and hold him properly, but it would have to do for now.

"I'm in shock, I suppose," Loki said. "I'll be able to make better sense of it in the morning, probably."

"I hope I haven't caused any issues."

A sigh, a shuffle.

"You just got it out in the open. And actually a lot of things make sense now that I think about it. I'm tired. We should sleep."

He didn't want to talk yet. That was alright.

Thor lay awake for a while all the same, listening to Loki's breathing and hoping he was finding at least some rest.


	25. Morning

It was nice to wake up in the same bed as someone he liked. Thor only wished it was under better circumstances.

He'd been woken a couple of times in the night, mainly just by the novelty of there being a person cuddled up next to him and once when Loki wrapped a leg around him and he got a brush of a very cold foot against his hip.

It had been strangely gratifying to tuck it under his shirt to keep warm. He could look after Loki a little. It didn't help with his overarching guilt about sending his life into a spiral, but at least he could do something.

And at least Loki looked peaceful in the dawn glimmers. Based on how white the light was, it seemed the snow was still there. No sense in making him get up too early.

All the same, out of habit maybe, he stirred before too long, sighing gently.

"Good morning," Thor murmured.

"Mm..."

He scrambled out over Thor's torso, wearing his blanket like a cape as he stretched and poked up the range, checking the kettle and setting it to heat.

"How are you feeling?" Thor asked gently.

"I'm not really sure," Loki said. "It's strange to go from not knowing something to knowing it. I'm not sure how to explain it, really."

"What did you talk about?"

Loki sat on the edge of the bed again, letting Thor stroke his thigh gently, keeping an eye on the stove.

"My mother, mostly," he said. "And how much he loved her. I can still hardly believe that she was interested. I suppose he is... kind and thoughtful, but she could have had any man she wanted, by all accounts. It's strange to think that she wanted him. But he says he has proof. Letters that she wrote to him when he was in Rome for a symposium. They're coded, but apparently clear enough that he thinks they'll convince me."

In truth, Thor wasn't totally sure that he needed convincing anymore. He seemed accepting now, more or less.

He made tea.

"I was going to give you an early Christmas present before the snow set in," he said as Thor sat up properly to take his cup.

"Really? What kind of present?"

"You've been so bored. Volstagg helped me build a sort of trolley for the font. I was going to wheel it up here with your tools, let you work on it. I think the height of it is such that you'd be able to carve from bed. Put a dust sheet down, help you turn it at night when you need to see another angle."

It was very thoughtful, Thor's heart feeling like it was swelling up.

"Thank you," he said. "That's very kind of you."

"Of course, I did have ulterior motives," Loki said, walking his fingers up Thor's arm. "I was rather hoping you'd give me something in return."

Thor smiled, feeling a hint of a blush on his cheeks despite everything.

"I do think you're ready," he said. "I didn't want to when I knew something about your life that you didn't. It wouldn't have been right somehow and I want it to be perfect."

"Careful. I'll hold you to that the very second we're alone."

Speaking of which, there was some banging at the door somehow. Someone had managed to get through the snow, it seemed.

Thor didn't hear all that Volstagg said, something about checking on people and missing and a search party.

"No, no," Loki said. "He's here. He came to check on Mr Odinson and got stuck. I bedded down on the chaise and we got through it. Don't worry."

He returned with a large steaming pot, setting it on the table.

"Porridge from Hilde," he said. "They went to check on Father Farbauti and discovered he wasn't at home or in the church. They were about to send out the dogs, I think."

"At least you were able to put their minds at rest," Thor said. "Should we... check he's alright?"

"Why wouldn't he be?"

"Well, I imagine finally telling such a long-held secret must be a shock."

It actually seemed like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders when he came downstairs.

"I've been praying most of the night," he said. "I should have told you years ago."

"Yes," Loki said gently. "You should. But perhaps hearing it late is better than never hearing it at all."

"I hope one day that you can forgive me, though I realise..."

"It might take some time. But I'm not angry as such. It's not as harsh as that. Maybe because I do understand, I think. It was hard to choose the right time to tell me. You just needed a little push."

"I'll bring you those letters. You might... like getting to read your mother's words."

"I think you're right."

He ate his porridge and wrapped up warmly to face the snow, Loki slumping slightly afterwards.

"Are you alright?" Thor asked. "Really?"

"I will be. With the snow how it is, I have no intention of trying to get to the school. All the same, I wouldn't mind a little... distraction."

That, Thor could do, probably, holding out his hand and pulling Loki close, straddling him immediately for kisses, some tension leaving his body as Thor ran his hands up and down his back, up under his sleep clothes, running through his hair.

"Could we... Mm... Could we try...?"

"Of course."

He'd said he was going to make this perfect. Of course, in a perfect world, he'd be able to move, but he could still do everything in his power to make this wonderful.

Loki fetched the oil, visibly a little nervous as he started getting out of his clothes, but aroused and excited too. They needed to try to ease away that fear. Nice and slow.

And Thor knew he was nervous too, afraid almost of this act they were going to do together, so desperate to make it everything Loki had imagined.

Oh, God, what if it was disappointing? What if he couldn't fulfil this fantasy for him properly?

"It's just the same as we've done before," Loki said, faintly unsure. "Just instead of finishing like that, I'll... Yes."

"Hey," Thor said, reaching for him. "It's alright. Come here."

He ran his hands over Loki's body, trying to soothe him, feeling him trembling.

"We don't have to," he said. "If you're not ready."

"I'm ready," Loki insisted. "I'm just excited."

Alright. Thor uncorked the oil, pouring out a generous amount, Loki turning around, such a familiar sight.

He gasped as Thor ran a thumb over his hole, very gently, making his skin shine with oil, waiting for him to relax a little before sliding a finger inside.

A soft little sigh, Loki angling himself back.

"I'll need more than that," he said.

"I know. But this is important."

He slid that single digit in and out, adding oil as he went, until he felt the relaxation happen, only then adding a second. Loki made a good sound, like a smug little hum.

"I've wanted this for so long," he said. "I'm glad it's going to be you."

"It's an honour," Thor said.

Loki laughed and moaned, pushing himself back into Thor's motions, breathing going heavy and quick as Thor pushed his fingers apart, always being so careful.

And once Thor had three fingers within him, Loki pulled away.

"I think I'm ready," he said. "I think... I'm going to try."

The arousal that Thor had been studiously ignoring hit him like a cart as Loki turned round, a little furrow between his brows, taking Thor's cock in hand and trying to line himself up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas. My gift to myself is finally giving the priest a name.


	26. Loki's Wish

"Oh... Oh, fuck, Thor..."

Loki's chest heaved, his breathing so fast as he lowered himself little by little, gasping as the head of Thor's cock slipped into him, determinedly taking more and more until he was sitting completely skin against skin, Thor stroking his thighs.

"Alright?" he asked.

"I'm so full," Loki said, all in a rush, one breath racing out of his lungs. "It's so much."

"Too much?"

"No... No, I can do it."

"Let yourself get used to it. There's no rush."

Thor said that almost to himself as well. Loki was so hot around his cock, tight despite his preparations, and wet with oil. He looked so beautiful, his hair still a little tousled from sleep, his lips reddened, a flush over his cheeks almost exactly the same shade as his cock.

Despite the less than ideal angle, Thor reached out and wrapped his hand around it, stroking a little, knowing from experience how a little pleasure could help.

Loki closed his eyes, his lips parted, unable to resist trying to thrust into Thor's hand, which, of course, made him move, Thor moaning openly at even such a tiny motion.

"Do I feel good?" Loki asked.

"Yes. Yes, you feel incredible."

"Mm... I want to feel you spill inside me."

Thor was trying his level best not to. He didn't want to end this too soon. He needed to satisfy. Needed to.

Loki rolled his hips, gasping still, overwhelmed.

"It feels so strange," he said. "Not painful, not unpleasant, but... strange."

"Try moving when you're ready. Just a little."

The sounds Loki made were better than he'd even imagined. Little sighs, the softest cries as he started rocking back and forth, experimenting at first and then clearly finding an angle that he liked, his eyes hooded with pleasure, starting to let out sweet moans.

Thor felt his cock twitch, Loki grinning down at him.

"I felt that," he said. "Mm..."

He leant back slightly, his hand out to balance resting on the mattress between Thor's immovable legs, starting to grow more comfortable and confident, finding a rhythm.

So instinctive, just trying to find what felt good, not trying to do anything other than enjoy himself. Thor felt swept away by him, by everything about him, watching in awe.

If he could, he'd be thrusting up into him, adding his strength to every motion. Or maybe he'd hold him tight, legs wrapped around his torso, kissing all those sounds from his lips, feeling where his cock leaked against his stomach. Or maybe they could change positions, watching how Loki undulated and imagining that motion in a slightly different way...

There were lots of things he wanted to do. He just had to hope they got the chance.

He watched as Loki gasped, maybe finding the point where he could get some pressure against his prostate, his motions growing quicker. Not quite bouncing, that was a little advanced, but something close to that.

"Oh, Thor... Ooh..."

"Better?"

"Oh, it feels... Mm!"

Much more of this and Thor wouldn't manage to hold out. Loki was squeezing his cock, possibly unaware that he was doing so, and it felt exquisite. But he had pride. He wanted to see Loki climax first.

He wrapped his hand around his cock again, stroking gently at first and then more firmly, Loki nodding and moaning, his pleasure so deliciously evident, skin shining with effort.

"Come on, Loki," Thor breathed. "You're so close, I can tell."

"Ah... Ah, yes..."

It was sudden. A jolt throughout Loki's body, his spend landing on Thor's chest, moaning through it as his muscles pulsed and squeezed and Thor knew he only needed a little more...

Loki leant forward, planting his hands on Thor's chest for leverage, rolling his hips hard and fast, determined to feel his climax. It took only a few moments before Thor was spilling, pulling Loki into kisses, holding him tight as his softening cock slipped from his body.

"Was that alright?" Thor asked.

"It was wonderful," Loki said, cuddling into him. "I think it was a very successful experiment. But I also think I'll have to try it a few more times before I can be really sure. Maybe lots of times, actually."

Thor laughed, running his hands up and down Loki's body, pulling a blanket across them.

"I'll do my best," he said.


	27. Christmas

Volstagg and Hilde brought him the font a few days later. Apparently the snow had thawed out enough that they thought it was worth a try, rolling it through to the kitchen.

"I'm not sure what's got into Mr Laufeyson," Hilde said, helping by opening all the doors enough to let the wheeled contraption they'd built get through the house.

"Oh, really?" Thor asked.

"He just seems very happy, that's all. Usually at this time of year, he's stressed about the choir, but this year... I think having you around is good for him. He's desperately in need of company."

Thor smiled and tried to ignore the way his heart had squeezed tightly in his chest.

Never mind about Loki's heart breaking. Thor was increasingly finding himself thinking about how, come February or so, he would move on. He'd have to. These lovely people couldn't keep feeding him forever.

And he didn't like that idea at all, no matter how much he knew it was a fact. He was going to miss Loki. He was going to miss his conversation and his laughter, his intelligence, his wit. He was going to miss having music in his life, both singing in the choir and Loki playing the piano.

He'd miss the sex too, of course, but it was more than that. He'd made a real friend. Maybe even... a lover in the real sense of the word.

Oh, he was ridiculous. They'd only known each other for a few weeks. He'd have to get over this if he possibly could.

"Thank you so much for doing this," he said as two of the bigger children wrangled his bag of tools in. "I really appreciate it."

"Not at all," Volstagg said. "Happy to. And I'll be getting you into church on Christmas Day - I'm determined."

Thor forced a smile.

"Well, I'll see what the doctor says. I'm close to three weeks of healing, but that's potentially not even half way."

"Leave it with me. I know the choir will sound all the better if you're there."

Hm... And Loki would like that. He'd like it a lot. Thor had been practising for all that he wasn't convinced he'd make it on the day. But if he somehow could...

Well, it would be another wonderful memory, sharing Loki's passion with him.

"I'd love to," he said. "But I'm trying not to set my heart on it."

At least now he had the font to distract him. Volstagg had put some furniture casters onto a piece of wood to get it to him and once he got used to the occasional motion of it, he was able to sit up and work on it through the day. Singing and carving. The angle wasn't the best, but he could manage.

The feathers started to take shape, wings sweeping across the four sides. Every day, Loki would trace his fingers along the new lines, so quick to notice the transformation.

He was working on it when Heimdall came to examine him, helping him bend his knees, looking him over with a critical eye.

"Any pain?" he asked.

"I don't think so. Sometimes I have itches and that's torturous, but nothing else in particular."

"Right. Then I'm happy for you to try using the convalescence chair. It might be difficult to get into, but I've sourced some crutches and they should help."

A conspiratory part of Thor's brain lit up.

"Don't tell Mr Laufeyson," he said. "He's been so kind to me. I'd like to surprise him."

It was going to take some effort. He sent notes through Young Hilde to her parents, trying to plan this, apologising to Loki that he really didn't think he was going to make it to the service...

"Well," Loki said, stroking his arm. "We always knew it was touch and go. I'll miss hearing your voice, but if that's the doctor's orders, then it can't be helped."

Thor was glad he was sitting next to him and not lying with his head on his chest or he might have heard how his heart throbbed excitedly.

Despite his best efforts with support and, ahem, distraction, Loki got more and more stressed as Christmas Day grew closer. Their final rehearsal the night before sounded close to perfect to Thor's ears, but then again, he didn't have the skill to notice the little imperfections.

"It will be fine," he said to Loki when he came downstairs in all his best clothes, a green silk waistcoat under a dark suit, his hair slicked back and shining.

"I hope so," Loki sighed.

"Come here."

A kiss maybe soothed him a little, Thor being careful not to crease him in any way.

"You've worked so hard," he said. "I'm sure it will be wonderful and you can tell me all about it when you get home. But you should head down. Make sure everything is ready."

The lock clicked and Thor sprang into action.

Hilde had brought up his bags and in them were his neater clothes, changing out of an ordinary shirt into a proper white one, looping a red neckerchief around the collar and pulling on his coat for the first time in weeks.

Now, trousers...

This was a lot more difficult with the plasters weighing down both his legs. Fortunately, he'd never much gone for tight tailoring and with a degree of effort and a lot of grunting and straining, he managed to get himself buttoned up in time for Hilde and the children to arrive with the crutches.

"Have you done this kind of thing before?" Thor asked.

"Of course. Maybe not with anyone as, er..."

"Bulky?"

"Exactly. But you've got the strength to help."

It was difficult. He got his legs over the edge of the bed, the chair waiting below him, shuffling and trying his best to use the crutches for support while Young Hilde and one of her brothers helped hold everything steady.

More of a slip than a dignified motion but with a light clatter, he was in the chair and they were off, his toes getting cold almost immediately once they were outside but unable to care.

The town looked beautiful in the snow. The tiled roofs undulated like tiny seas, made yellow by the gas street lights that were still burning, tracks of footprints along the pavements, ones and twos and then uniting down the path to the church.

"The steps!" Thor said.

No longer covered over, his handiwork up to the main entrance had been carefully swept, a glow from the inside spilling out onto smooth stone, one of the children running ahead to drag a large piece of wood out from behind the building. A makeshift ramp. They'd thought of everything.

"They're holding up so far," Hilde said. "We've been using them for two weeks. I think they may have started without us."

They had. Thor could hear the singing. Adeste Fideles. Father Farbauti came out to help push him up into the building, through the vestibule and into the church proper, smiling all the time.

"Thank you," Thor whispered.

"Merry Christmas, Mr Odinson. Go on."

People turned to look at him as he awkwardly wheeled himself up the aisle, some of the choir grinning around their notes as he slowly made progress, waiting for a good time to join in. Maybe the chorus?

Yes, that would be best.

"Venite adoremus," he sang softly, and then a little louder. "Venite adoremus..."

Loki turned, his conducting hands frozen in mid-air.

"Venite adoremus, Dominum!"

His smile lit up brighter than any of the candles.


	28. Thoughts

Someone - probably Volstagg - helped wheel him alongside the choir's chairs, next to the seat that Loki sat in while the service proper was going on.

Loki was beaming at him all the while, leaning close to murmur to him in between gospel readings.

"You said you couldn't come."

"I know. I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, it's an excellent surprise."

He practically glowed with the candlelight bouncing off his skin, unable to stop smiling, happiness practically shining out of him and Thor was melting. If memories were threads in a tapestry, this one was a bright, glimmering gold that would stand out to him long after others had faded.

God, he wanted to hold his hand or put an arm around him. Surely no one would read anything into that?

He dared to squeeze Loki's shoulders, just gently, just like a very good friend. That was what he was, after all.

They didn't have the best view of the priest delivering his Christmas sermon, but they could hear it fine.

"I've been thinking a lot about love this Christmas. I read a beautiful poem recently that began with these words: 'Love came down at Christmas, Love all lovely, Love Divine.' It really stood out to me. It's very easy to focus on the big parts of the story - the angels and shepherds and Magi and so on - but at the heart of it is the simple love of a mother for her child. And, of course, there's also love of a man for his betrothed, his wife-to-be. And then the camaraderie of the shepherds, the love and kindness of friends."

Thor met Hilde's gaze in the congregation, giving her a smile.

"At this time of year, I think we can really appreciate those we love. The love of husbands. The love of wives. The love of parents and children, brothers and sisters. The love of dear friends who I understand were ready to run into the snow to look for their missing priest."

Good natured chuckles. The usual. But Farbauti was growing serious now.

"As we celebrate the joy of Christmas and look forward into next year, remember to let the people you care about know. And maybe that's not out loud, but in your actions. A kind word, a smile, just a little brightness in these darker days. We need each other more than we realise. And now our choir will sing for us again. I believe it's Silent Night performed in its original tongue."

Thor had learned so much about singing. He was sitting up properly, breathing correctly, making sure he was controlling his volume to really lean on the lullaby sound of the hymn.

Maybe his German pronunciation could use some work still, but he was enthusiastic.

He loved hearing the higher voices soar above him, knowing he was supporting them, bringing that rich, full sound, grounding the chord.

And maybe he was imagining it, but he thought Loki's eyes slipped over to him more often than they usually did. Like he was making sure he really was there. Or maybe trying to imprint this to his memory.

They sounded good. Everyone said so afterwards as they wished everyone a merry Christmas and Loki prepared to push him back up to the house. How he was going to get back onto the bed, he wasn't sure, but they'd figure it out.

The priest came with them. It seemed Loki had invited him before the service started. And between them all, they managed the journey of getting a large man from a wheeled chair back into his bed, sitting up and taking off his neckerchief.

"So what are the rules for drawing from life for your sermons then?" Thor asked as Loki poured a little port for them all.

"If anything, I think it's actively encouraged," Farbauti said. "And I would find it hard to talk about anything else at the moment. I'm overwhelmed with finally being able to talk to my son without secrets between us."

"I think we understand one another a lot better," Loki said. "And that's a nice way to be going into the new year."

Thor had felt one of the knots in his stomach undo. They were building a new relationship. He hadn't ruined everything by getting those secrets out into the open.

Of course, he had another, smaller knot beneath it. All that talk of caring and showing it... It had got under his skin rather.

"I wish I had done it years ago," Farbauti said. "I've wasted a lot of time."

"Better late than not at all. Merry Christmas, Father."

"Merry Christmas."

Thor watched them, the thawing of a relationship that they hadn't even known was frozen, maybe feeling a tiny bit proud of himself.

It wasn't particularly late when Thor and Loki were left alone, the candlelight glowing dark red through the port, reflecting onto the little pine tree, Thor trying to decide how to say something important.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked.

"I've been thinking," Loki said at the exact same time.

"Oh. Oh, well, you go first," Thor said.

"No, no. After you."

Right.

"It's just... I wanted to tell you how much the last few weeks has meant to me. Not just... Not just the physical side of things but the music and the evenings together. It's really been wonderful. And I... I've grown to care about you. A lot. You're a fascinating person who I'd have been honoured to meet regardless of our attraction. I'm going to miss it. Everything. So... Yes. That's all."

Loki smiled at him, openly joyous.

"Who says you have to miss anything?" he asked. "Why don't you live here?"

"Well, my work... I can't keep relying on kindness forever, I have to earn a living."

"I've been speaking to Volstagg. He's always overstretched, always wishing he had some help so he could spend more time at home with his family and helping Hilde around the house. And he doesn't always have the necessary skills for the repairs people need. But you do. And I know I can't promise that times will always be like this or that it will be always easy or... But, well, if it doesn't work out, you always have the option of leaving if you want to."

He said the last part very quickly, looking away, trying not to let his emotions out.

And Thor thought about it. For a moment. Maybe two.

"I think I'd like to give that a try," he said.


	29. A Beginning

After a delightful evening of giggles and cuddles and kisses, Thor woke late. He knew it was late, because the sun was already shining through the kitchen windows.

And Loki was sitting at the table, reading a letter.

"Is that...?" Thor asked.

"Yes. He must have dropped them off through the letterbox before he went on his rounds. My mother's letters."

"How are they?"

Loki sighed, getting up to set the kettle to boil.

"Very sweet, actually," he said. "She's not completely open about her feelings, but you can kind of tell what she means. What she's saying without saying it. I'll read some to you, if you'd like."

"Yes, please."

He leafed through some pages, old paper rustling so softly, finding an earlier sheet.

"Dear Father Farbauti," he read. "I trust that your journey was free from trouble and that perhaps you found some time to read or - heaven forbid! - maybe even relax a little.

"In your absence, I have been looking in on Bestla more often and reading to her, though I know my voice is a poor substitute for yours. All the same, she will be fully up to date with all the news and her novels when you get back. I think Loki enjoys it too, gazing up at me like it's the most wonderful bedtime story. Perhaps one day, he'll be a great scholar.

"The visiting priest is certainly performing to the best of his abilities."

Thor laughed, Loki looking up at him in surprise.

"That's damning with faint praise, isn't it?" he asked. "She's basically saying he's dreadful but without saying it. That's the kind of thing you might say, I think."

And Loki smirked a little, trying to hold it back.

"Mr Odinson, are you implying that I would tell a student that they had reached the true heights of their potential and not mean that in the most complimentary way? How dare you?"

"Well, sometimes I imagine it might be true. No shame in having different skills in life. It's interesting, though, the part about you as a baby."

"Yes. I'm... glad to have confirmation that their relationship continued after I was a reality. Some men might... Might not have..."

"Hey," Thor said softly. "He loved her. He loves you and always has. And now you know."

"Yes. But it's never going to stop seeming strange to me. The idea that half of me is from such a... buttoned up, stiff and proper man. I always thought my father had to be a musician, you know? A travelling troubadour, all... rakish and romantic, a night of passion and then me."

"You know better than most that a professional and private self can be very different. Maybe he's more fun than you think. Your mother must have seen something in him."

Loki looked at him fondly, like he was willing to be convinced.

"You're so determined to look for the best in people," he said. "Do you get that from your parents?"

"My mother, certainly. She's an incurable optimist. Suffers no fools, but gives people endless chances to prove themselves not to be fools. And my father... Well, he means well, but he's a gruff sort. Not very... warm. Doesn't show his emotions readily."

"Do you think I could meet them one day?"

That was an unexpected question.

"I don't see why not. If they were to come and visit. They'll be glad to see me happy and settled I think. I try to see them when I pass their way, but that doesn't happen terribly often."

"Settled with a man though?"

"I don't plan to tell them that. Two men can surely lodge together without arousing suspicion."

"Yes. I think that's the best plan. And there is another room upstairs, a sort of nursery, I think, which could be your space as far as everyone else is concerned."

He was already thinking about the future, how they would live together. And Thor's heart swelled to think of it. He'd spent most of his life travelling around, never staying long, never making long-term connections. The idea of having a partner, building a life together, sharing in joys and sorrows and passion...

It sounded wonderful. And he hoped he wasn't letting his imagination run away with him. Maybe it wouldn't work. Maybe after the early period was over, they would learn they were not well suited after all.

But it was worth trying.

Loki read the rest of the letters while Thor worked on the font. He was taking his time with it as best he could, not wanting to finish it too early while he still had so many weeks of recovery to go.

It was nice to be peaceful together, just occupying the same space, existing together.

He really could get used to this.


	30. Upstairs

"I understand you're going to be joining us here, Mr Odinson," Heimdall said, using a frankly terrifying pair of clippers to remove the casts from his legs.

"Yes," Thor said. "Mr Laufeyson has kindly opened his home to me. It's often cheaper to live as two rather than one. I'm looking forward to seeing my new sleeping arrangements."

It wasn't a lie, even if he probably wouldn't be using the second bedroom on a regular basis.

"Be careful on the stairs. And don't try to run before you can run - literally. You'll have lost some muscle most likely and it will take some time to built up again."

He helped him get the measure of the crutches, Thor carefully trying putting a little weight on his feet, practising getting the hang of supporting himself.

It felt wonderful. Such freedom, even if he could feel his muscles complaining. Heimdall watched him propel himself up and down the kitchen and finally decided he was happy enough with his progress to leave him to it.

It was a little frustrating. He tired easily, having to lean all the more on the sticks after about half an hour. And so he rested for a time, determined to be ready a little later in the afternoon.

He hadn't been outside in... Well, since Christmas. And now here he was, awkwardly hobbling his way out, the new key Loki had had made for him in his pocket, heading down the street towards the school house. Young Hilde had helpfully drawn him a map, though it wasn't really necessary.

The snow was gone now, but the late winter air was still crisp and cool, the first hints of green in the trees and little sprouts reminding him that spring wasn't too far away.

He leant gently against a wall, waiting, carefully shifting his weight from one side to the other, perking up when eventually the children stepped out, heading to their respective homes.

And a short time later...

Loki span out of the door, turning and locking it in one motion before finally looking and startling slightly.

And then he grinned.

"You're out," he said.

"Yes," Thor said. "I'm out. Only just, but I'm out."

It was slow progress home, Loki telling him about his day, the book that his students were reading, his moderate frustration that spelling seemed to be eluding some of them, the dozens of little things that he'd always wanted someone to listen to but had never had the chance before.

And then Thor was sitting in the kitchen as Loki made tea, occasionally glancing at him sitting in an actual chair, like he was amazed he was really seeing it.

"It's so strange seeing you sitting there," he said. "The box bed looks very odd now it's empty."

"Well, hopefully I've spent my last night in it."

"I'm excited for you to see upstairs finally, but I'm aware that once you're up, it might be difficult to come down again... Or maybe I'll want to trap you in bed for hours and hours."

"Better eat first. Get my strength up."

"Ooh..."

It was exciting just seeing the bedroom at last, exactly how Thor had imagined it; music books everywhere, a very neat dressing table, a wardrobe ajar with his coats and neat shirts hanging in it and the bed...

A real bed. Dark wood, scroll ends, beautifully carved, and thick woollen blankets to keep even Loki's feet warm.

And best of all, Loki sitting on the end of it, smoothing the creases beneath his hands, waiting patiently. Stairs had been quite tricky, but Thor didn't want help. He limped forward, leaning down for kisses, Loki wrapping his arms around him.

"You need to lie down," he murmured. "Little bits of exercise at a time until you're better."

"I can handle a little exertion, I think."

"No, no. You are to relax and let me look after you. There is... something I'd like to try. Now that you're able to spread your legs a little."

Ah... They had talked about this, Thor being a little tentative, trying to see if Loki was receptive to the idea. Some people preferred sex one way and that was fine, but Thor very much enjoyed the spice of variety. But Loki had seemed indifferent, certainly not as keen as he was now.

Maybe they could both surprise each other from time to time.

He felt very spoiled with Loki removing their clothes, ensuring he was well and truly nestled among the pillows, warming the oil in his hand before starting to get Thor ready.

"I've never done this to someone else," he said. "So you'll have to help me."

"You'll be fine," Thor said. "You know what you're doing."

He was better than fine, gazing down at Thor like he was the most beautiful thing in the world, his gentle but firm fingers slipping easily into his body, steadily stretching him.

"Go on," Thor murmured. "I'm ready."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

How had he ever forgotten the simple pleasure of feeling a warm body between his thighs, of squeezing gently as they lined up, that pressure at his entrance and then that yield?

Well, this was even better. Having Loki gasping above him, eyes wide and beautiful, overwhelmed. He was doing that, sharing this with him.

He clenched a little, just to see what reaction he got, very gratified by the sound Loki made, an inhale and a moan in one.

"You need to teach me how to go that," he breathed, giving him a little thrust.

"No," Thor said. "You already drive me too wild."

"Then I'll just have to... Mm... Have to work it out for myself."

He was good at that. Already, he'd found a gentle rhythm, rolling his hips, Thor arching up into every motion, running his hands all over his body. He had so much more reach now, taking full advantage.

But when Loki wrapped a hand around his cock, there wasn't much he could do but submit and enjoy.

All the same, being able to plant his feet on the mattress and push upwards was such a revelation after so long being unable to move, still able to make Loki moan before feeling that unmistakable sensation deep within himself, following only a few moments afterwards with some flicks of Loki's wrist.

And afterwards, they could cuddle properly, all curled around each other, the first time of what he hoped would be many, many occasions.

"Was it... good?" Loki asked from somewhere around his chest.

"Better than good," Thor murmured. "I've not so much been looked after as thoroughly spoiled. I don't think I'll be willing to move for hours."

He didn't. Somewhere in the night, Thor woke to find that he'd been tucked under another blanket, Loki slumbering beside him, looking so peaceful. And plenty of room for both of them to be comfortable.

Thor prided himself on finding happiness wherever and whenever it presented itself. And now, at the start of this... whatever it was with Loki, he had a suspicion that he'd be finding it far more often these days.

He'd have to try not to let it go unnoticed or take it for granted. He wanted to always notice these sweet, little things, like Loki sleeping softly next to him, warm and safe.

Risking a gentle kiss to his forehead, Thor snuggled into bed properly.

What were those words again?

_Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh._


	31. A Visit

"And you carved that?"

"I did," Thor said, his mother's arm in one of his, her bag in the other, taking her on a tour of the outside of the church, complete with the new gargoyle.

"It's beautiful, darling. Well done."

He was quite proud of it, he supposed. If you knew Loki, you could see a little of him in the serene face, something about the brow and the nose. It was subtle enough, though he still remembered the way Father Farbauti had smiled when he saw the finished product. He was getting on really rather well with his more-or-less father-in-law. They were mutually engaged in trying to make Loki happy.

And now he was going to introduce his lover to his mother. She'd come to visit, just for a few days. Unfortunately his father wasn't well enough to make the journey, but he'd get all the news upon her return.

Thor eased open the side door of the church as quietly as he could. He'd even oiled the hinges a day or so ago so they wouldn't squeak and give them away. He wanted Loki to make the best possible first impression and he was at his best when he was at the organ.

He watched his mother's face, the sheer joy she found in the music, the soaring chords and quick little running passages, applauding when Loki finished and giving him quite a shock, spinning round on his stool.

All the same, he was smiling as he came back down the aisle.

"Mother, this is my dear friend and landlord, Loki Laufeyson. Mr Laufeyson, this is my mother."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mrs Odinson. Please, call me Loki."

"Thor mentioned your musical prowess in his letters, but even still I'm very impressed. You're quite the virtuoso."

"Oh, not at all," Loki said, blushing slightly. "I'm a dabbler more than anything else. Have you ever heard your son sing?"

Thor knew he ought to have expected this, and yet it was still a surprise. But then again, if he couldn't sing for his own mother then who else?

He insisted that they ought to do it at home though. The piano and the parlour were better for his nerves, Loki playing for him, helping keep him in time and in tune.

It was wonderful to share this with him. Thor was slowly getting better at reading music and that seemed to be lifting Loki's confidence as a teacher. He would mention sometimes that he might start tutoring piano skills and Thor was very supportive of that. After all, music was so important to him. It could be that vital to the next generation too. Or even adults could learn. It was never too late.

His mother had never heard him sing more than a simple hymn or Christmas carol and here he was fitting his tongue around Italian words. He didn't understand what they meant, but he was managing the notes alright.

And the look on her face... She'd always been proud of him, he knew that, but she was so pleased that he was enjoying a new hobby, learning something new.

Then again, she could probably also tell how happy he was.

They invited Father Farbauti for dinner, a little meeting of in-laws more or less. They seemed to get on well, not that Thor had had any doubts on that front.

"Are you staying long, Mrs Odinson?"

"Only a week. It does mean I'll be turfing my son out of his bed, but he's being very accommodating."

"Well," Thor said. "I'm very used to the box bed from when I was injured. It's perfectly comfortable."

He'd not spent a night away from Loki in all the months they'd been together, all through his slow recovery, his gentle beginning of his new work. Between the two of them, he and Volstagg were doing all the works the town could imagine, repairs and improvements and decorations. It had become his home, to the point that his previous life travelling around seemed like a lifetime ago.

And he'd even had time to work on his own projects. Out at Volstagg's workshop, he'd been working on a little present for Loki's birthday; carved stoneware pots for the rose and the little pine tree, which was getting less and less little by the day. Maybe it was nearly ready to live outside.

And maybe part of Thor was a little romantic about that. His prickly, beautiful Loki as the rose and his own earthiness as the pine. He liked the idea of them living together on the windowsill as their equivalents lived happily inside.

A successful day. All the same, as he showed his mother up to what was nominally his bedroom and got the blankets out for the box bed, he had a little sadness in his heart. They were making the very best of things, but he wished they could proclaim their love openly, even just to those they knew.

Maybe one day.

Loki came down to wish him goodnight, sneaking kisses like sweets.

"Seeing you here makes me rather nostalgic," Loki said, running a hand down Thor's leg.

"Oh, really? Well, maybe when we no longer have guests..."

"Mm. I like your mother very much. I'm looking forward to knowing her better. Do you think she likes me?"

The vulnerability beneath the haughty exterior really was adorable sometimes.

"Of course," Thor said. "I'm sure of it."

"I hope so. And I should leave before temptation grows too much for me. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, darling."

Thor blew out his lamp and shuffled under the blankets.

He had his aspirations, his dreams and hopes for the future, but maybe, for now, it was enough to carve out a life together.

And he was quite good at carving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there we go. Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> I'm currently writing something new which I will hopefully start posting some time in January.
> 
> Wishing you a peaceful new year and all the best for 2021.


End file.
